Untitled
by Opal Rain Dragon
Summary: Malfoy's life seems to be one disaster after the next. When will it ever end? ::shakes fist at the sky:: Or at least that's how it seems to Harry as they develope an understanding. Eventually HPDM. Established RWHG
1. Anger and Mood Swings

Title: Un-fucking-titled (Too bad I can't actually name it that.)

Author's Note: I don't know why I'm writing this, but I'm bored out of my mind and need to exercise my brain a bit. It's starting to atrophy. ::twitch:: And in case you haven't noticed, I'm pissed as hell for no good reason. It's kind of fun.

Disclaimer: Not mine so just try and sue me. I dare ya.

Rating: Good question. "Muses, what's my rating?...A perfect ten... What the hell? What's that suppose to mean?" To be safe, I'll just go with R. After all, I cuss a lot and have an incredible dirty mind; there's no way I could possibly attract nice, sweet, innocent muses. ::snickers to herself::

**Revised 8-15-04 **(I'll move on to the next chapters when I get a chance, so sorry for the crappiness of them. I was trying to get the trivial stuff out of the way.)

Anger and Mood Swings)

(The Great Hall (Also known as the place with the food and the tables.))

"SLYTHERIN!" the sorting hat announced from atop the head of a small, dirty-blond haired kid, with muddy brown eyes. His eyes widened in shock as he glanced towards the Slytherin table.

The members of said table applauded fiercely, feeling pride in acquiring a new member, all of them were happy, except for one.

Draco glanced at the boy in disinterest. _Great_, he thought. _Another annoying little rodent is allowed into the house of Slytherin. Big whoopdee-fucking-do_. He let out an annoyed growl and waited impatiently for his food to appear. _Why the hell couldn't they eat during the sorting_? He growled again attracting attention from some of his housemates.

"Draco," Pansy teased. "Knock it off; you're beginning to sound like my dog."

He let out another annoyed growl just to spite her. "Yeah well, at least I don't look like your dog," he snarled looking pointedly at Crabbe and Goyle. They didn't even notice the insult, which took most of the fun out of it.

"What's put you in such a bad mood?" she asked with a hint of amusement.

His eyes flitted towards a certain emerald-eyed boy who was busy laughing with his friends, enjoying all the bonuses of being thought of as special.

"Nothing," the blond growled.

She rolled her eyes, having heard what had happened on the train earlier that day. It wouldn't surprise her if most of the school had heard as well. If they hadn't it was only a matter of time.

(The Train, earlier that day)

"I'm bored," Crabbe whined, adding another chocolate frog wrapper to the pile that had been made by the three of them.

Draco stared at him in shock. The boy was so easily entertained by the stupidest things that boredom must be an entirely new experience for him. It really said something about the level of boredom they were experiencing. They needed entertainment and fast.

"I know," Draco announced after some thought. "Let's go see what Potter and his fan club are up to."

Crabbe and Goyle shared a pained look. In response, Draco's brow crinkled in confusion.

_What was wrong with bullying Potter? It was how they normally kept themselves entertained._

"Look Draco," Goyle explained. "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but me and Crabbe talked over the summer and both of us have decided that we wish to stay out of your petty jealous rivalry with Potter. We're both sick and tired of being cursed by Potter and his friends."

Draco' mouth hung wide open. _Had he just seen a moment of intelligence from Goyle? _The thought was too much to handle. His automatic defense was to become irritated.

"Fine," he growled, leaving the compartment in an angry huff. "I'll just go by myself."

The train was crowded as usual and he shoved through fellow students making his way to Harry Potter and Companies usual compartment. He paused momentarily, glaring at the door, wondering if it was safe to start something with them on his own. Even with Crabbe and Goyle's help they were always bested by the trio, but Draco felt as if he had something to prove.

The door was thin enough that he was picking up parts of the conversation that was going on inside.

"So Harry, how was your summer?" Neville asked. The chubby boy was always eager to start up a conversation with the few friends that he had. He wanted to appear friendly and inviting in hopes that they wouldn't get bored with him and push him aside for more entertaining company.

"Fine," the raven-haired boy mumbled back.

The questions continued, but Draco didn't have the patience to sit around and hear about Perfect Little Potter's summer vacation. As a matter of fact, he could care less about any of their summer vacations. Without a second thought, he slid the compartment door open with a smirk.

"Hey Potter," he drawled, struggling not to notice the exasperated sigh that he got in response. "Wait until you see my new broom. You don't stand a chance against me this year."

Harry rolled his eyes, his face transformed into a look of superiority. "You've been saying that for how many years? And you still haven't even come close to beating me. Just face it Draco, I'm better than you."

Ron laughed, quick to join the conversation when there was a chance of humiliating the Slytherin. "You know he's right, don't you? I mean, even I could beat you at Quidditch and I kind of suck at it."

The smug looks on both of their faces pissed Draco off to no end. He wasn't making idle threats; he'd been practicing hard all summer and his father had even gotten him private lessons and a new broom. He did not intend to loose this year, so he lashed out angrily.

"Stupid weasel," Draco shouted, punching Ron square in the face. Ron stumbled back in surprise, clapping his hands to his nose. He had not been expecting such a reaction.

Three curses went flying past Ron, hitting Draco in the chest simultaneously. He fell backwards with a look of astonishment. With some effort, Harry rolled Draco out of their compartment. As the door was closing, Draco caught a glimpse of Hermione taking Ron's face gently in her hands and checking him for injuries.

Draco was now alone in the aisle, unable to move, his skin maroon with gold stripes, and his body extremely bloated. They had obviously planned out exactly which curses they had intended to use ahead of time. The embarrassment was beyond being tolerable.

"Shit," he heard Ron whine through the door. "I think I'm bleeding. Hermione, am I bleeding? It feels like I should be bleeding."

"No Ron," Hermione cooed. "You are not bleeding."

Now Draco was really pissed. Not only had he failed to embarrass Perfect Little Potter and his groupies, but he had also failed to give weasel-boy a bloody nose. At least if he had done some real damage then being so terribly cursed that he no longer looked human would have been slightly less humiliating. His father was right, he was a failure. _Stupid me; can't even punch right_.

(The present)

Draco growled at the memory, he had not gotten over the humiliation, especially since his housemates were as of yet still unable to remove the skin coloring.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted in glee, assigning another boy to the appropriate house.

He stared up at a small blond haired kid with overly large glasses, trying to fix the boy's face in his mind. He had to keep track of all the new Gryffindors so that he could be sure to give them detention if the need arised. This kid was as tiny as all the others had been.

"Is it just me," he asked. "...or are the first years getting shrimpier as the years progress?"

Pansy shrugged and the idiotic duo just stared at the first years stupidly. No one had an answer.

"We weren't that small, were we?"

Another shrug. Another lack of response.

"It's no fun beating the crap out of them when they're so puny. It feels like I'm squashing ants," he whined, trying to get some sort of response.

A few people at the table snickered, all except the first years that had just sat down. They were staring at Draco apprehensively, not really knowing that they were excluded from said beatings due to the fact that they were Slytherins. Draco was too pleased by their fear to enlighten them. People take orders better when they're scared half to death anyway.

Draco began glaring at Potter once again.

(Gryffindor table)

"Ron," Harry whispered. "He's still glaring at me."

Ron looked in Draco's direction. Sure enough, the blond was giving Harry the death glare. Ron hadn't noticed it before, but he smiled evilly.

"Maybe he likes you or something," Ron teased.

Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust and Ron had a sudden mental picture when he thought about what he had just said. He shuddered at the thought. Thankfully something like that would never happen.

"Just ignore him," Hermione advised, after their jokes were done. Ron nodded in agreement still suffering from the horrid mental picture of Draco prancing around behind Harry and announcing his undying love.

"But it's getting on my nerves," Harry complained. Over the years, he had gotten somewhat used to drawing people's attention, he was the-boy-that-lived after all, but every now and then he became acutely aware of it, especially when it could turn out bad for him.

They had pissed Draco off monumentally and it was only a matter of time before the boy retaliated. That fact alone made him nervous and that was why the blonde's glare was becoming a concern.

"Stupid ferret," Ron grumbled, trying to lighten the mood. "I know, let's all smile and wave at him."

Harry brightened at the thought and Hermione snickered.

"All right," he said grinning crazily.

The three looked directly at Draco with big fake smiles plastered on their face. When they started waving, Draco's face flushed with embarrassment and he quickly looked away.

The sorting continued and Ron was happily chattering away about Quidditch, but Harry was too busy thinking about other things to notice. He couldn't seem to shake the idea of Malfoy having the audacity to start something with out his guards. Malfoy was never alone; it just didn't seem to make sense. The explanation that he could come up was that the three had gotten into an argument or something.

He glanced at Malfroy and noticed that he moved his glare to a new target – Crabbe and Goyle.

_I guess they did get in a fight_, _but what could it have been about?_

The question plagued him and he was caught by surprise when Dumbledore's speech came to an end; he hadn't even noticed that the speech had begun.

Food appeared on the table and there was a flurry of motion as the younger students grabbed what they wished to eat. The older students were more patient in their food-getting endeavors, except for Ron who was hurriedly piling both his and Harry's plate with food, as though he expected the food to magically disappear as fast as it had appeared.

"Come on, eat up," Ron coaxed in an overly cheerful voice.

Harry smiled, picked up his fork, shoveled some mashed potatoes into his mouth and glared at Ron. He had grown tired of the boy's molly-coddling, even though he knew that the red-head was just worried about him.

Ron smiled back and started in on his own food, trying to talk to Hermione at the same time.

Harry gave up trying to listen as the noise in the Great Hall grew progressively louder.

He glanced at the Slytherin table only to find that Malfroy had begun to glare at him again.

He tried not to think about and placed more food in his mouth so that Ron wouldn't get on his case again.

The First-day Feast went as it had always gone, with lots of laughter, food, and friendship. Harry didn't feel like he was part of that world anymore; he was too jaded to believe everything would work out fine as long as you had friends and got your homework done.

"Uh," Ron groaned, pulling Harry out of his melancholic thoughts, and patting his stomach appreciatively. "I'm stuffed."

Harry put his fork down, unable to eat another bite. "Me too."

Hermione eyed his plate skeptically about to comment on the lack of food actually consumed by the moody Gryffindor, but upon seeing the pained look he gave her, she didn't kept her mouth shut.

The first years were valiantly fighting off fatigue, but it was clear to Ron and Hermione that it was time for bed for them.

"We'll meet you back in the dorm," Hermione announced, latching on to Ron so that she could drag him away before he thought to pester Harry about eating. "We have prefect's duties and all to attend to. Come on Ron."

Ron gave Harry an apologetic look as they turned to leave, remembering how upset the boy had been when Ron and Hermione had been made prefects and not him.

"It's fine. I don't need an escort," he assured.

Ron visibly relaxed upon hearing this and went off to round up the first years with the help of his girlfriend, and lead them to their rooms.

He watched the two of them for a moment, smiling. He was glad they had each other, even though it made him slightly jealous. With a sigh, he headed to the dorms, hoping to arrive before anyone else, so that he could go to bed without talking to anyone.

End Note: It was really funny writing this chapter because with the very first word I had to pause and think, "Now how the hell do I spell 'Slytherin'?" I realized that I had never spelled 'Slytherin' before and wasn't quite sure where all the letters were suppose to go. It made me feel really stupid, but then I got to the word 'Quidditch,' that really made me pause. And, as if the muses wished to torture me, I had to figure out how the hell I was supposed to spell 'Hermione.' Yeah, I'm going to bed. I'm sorry if I tend to use the f-word too much; it's a major part of my vocabulary. Also, I don't know where the hell this story is going or why I'm writing it. I swear I'll stop writing if I get no reviews.


	2. An Unexpected Apology

Title: Un-fucking-titled

Disclaimer: Fuck off! I'm already upset enough about not owning them, but why do I constantly have to admit that. It hurts, man. It hurts right here. ::holds hand over heart:: I don't need that kind of shit. ::runs off crying::

Rating: More than likely R.

Author's Note: I'm sorry this took so long. A certain challenge fic distracted me. I've made up a character. His name if Faren and he is Draco's younger brother. Also, I couldn't get anyone to edit, so if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry.

**Revised 8-16-04 (If it doesn't say that it's been revised that means I haven't gotten to it yet.)**

An Unexpected Apology

Draco headed for his first class of the day with a child-like glee that was almost unbefitting for a Malfroy. Potions always managed to cheer him up and after the night he had, he needed all the happiness that was available for the taking. Not only had he lost his two minions, he had been cursed by Potty and his fan club, and then had his luggage mysteriously lost, forcing him to sleep in his school clothes. Thankfully Blaise had been willing to share his hair-care products and his father had taught him a really cool spell that brushed his teeth for him. If it weren't for that, he doubted he would have even come to class.  
  
The dungeon was just as he remembered it-cold and damp and slightly slimy (probably where Snape gets his hair goo from). Professor Snape stood at the front of the class, arms crossed, with a smug look on his face. He spared a quick smile for Draco and then went back to giving the Gryffindors superior looks. He did not put up with their childish antics as the other teachers did.  
  
Potter entered just in time, panting. He shuffled towards his usual seat, attempting to draw as little attention to himself as necessary, he failed miserably. It was hard not to notice him; he made so much noise for someone so small.  
  
"By the way Potter," Snape snarled upon seeing him. "Dumbledore has requested that you continue with remedial potions until you get it right."

The green-eyed boy tensed angrily.

Draco and the rest of the Slytherins snickered. It was common knowledge that Potter was so terrible at potions that he needed to take remedial potions, but it was so much nicer hearing Snape announce it to the whole class. Everyone believed that Snape had allowed Potter into Advanced Potions just so that he could antagonize the boy for another two years.  
  
Potter glared daggers at the man. Snape just sneered back before starting his lesson. The level of hatred between them had risen dramatically, and no one was sure of the reason. The tension in the air at that moment was almost tangible. Everyone present was waiting with batted breath for the explosion. It was only a matter of time, but it did not appear to be happening during this lesson. Potter calmed himself with visible force, taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly. Draco was rather impressed.The rest of the class was uneventful; they didn't do anything new or learn anything new. Instead, Professor Snape went over everything of import that they had learned during their time in his class. He seemed to believe that summer had wiped all memory from their brain and with the answers the teacher was getting it appeared to be true. It left Draco feeling rather disappointed.  
  
He hoped lunch would cheer him up after the long and boring three hour review, but he didn't get a chance to find out, Pansy seemed intent upon making conversation. Sometimes he really hated the girl, especially since he had long ago realized that all of her flattery was insincere.  
  
"Hey Draco, isn't your kid brother coming here next year?" Pansy asked, as they walked to the Great Hall for lunch.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together. "Yes," he answered coldly.  
  
She seemed unfazed by his icy exterior. "What is his name again?"  
  
"Faren," he growled, angry at even the thought of his kid-brother.  
  
She brightened. "Oh, he's such a cute kid. I saw him once at a party and knew immediately he was a Malfoy even though you had never mentioned him before. He'll grow up to be real handsome; probably even cuter than you Draco," she chattered on, not noticing the blonde's sudden darkening of demeanor.  
  
He glared at her and stormed off towards the dorms, having lost his appetite at the mention of his younger brother.

His mother was always cooing over how wonderful the little brat was, totally ignoring him while she fawned obsessively. Everyone thought so highly of the pampered little shit, most of the time not even noticing the older Malfoy's existence. Next year, his brother would be here as well and immediately everyone would love him too, leaving Malfoy all alone and uncared for. The thought had plagued his nightmares.

His life just seemed to get worse and worse and worse, and the only thing to look forward to were Quidditch tryouts on Friday. It was common knowledge that he had already made the team, but he couldn't wait to tell Montague the good news. His father had bought the team custom built brooms that went faster than every broom on the market. It would be the second present his father had given the team. He also couldn't wait to show them how much he had improved over the summer, having taken private lessons at his father's urging. It was impossible for the Slytherin team to loose now. He would never forgive himself if it did.  
  
(Elsewhere)

Harry was running to class as fast as he could, shoving his transfiguration book into his bag as he went, and slinging it over his shoulder. He couldn't believe he had left it, still packed, in his school trunk. Professor McGonagall would never let him hear the end of it if he arrived late to class on the first day of school. Punctuality was a virtue in the woman's eyes, especially when it came to children in her house.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle were standing directly in front of him, arms crossed, blocking his path. He groaned inwardly and shot them a defiant look, not having time for the usual house rivalry.  
  
"Hurry up and hit me, so I can get on my way, " he shot at them. Even if he was willing to fight he was no match for the two giant-like teens and if he came to class with a black-eye he would at least be out of trouble for being late.The two boys shifted uncomfortably and finally Goyle opened his mouth at last. "Listen, we just want to say that we're sorry for all the trouble we've caused you over the years."  
  
The Gryffindor was taken aback and confused. _Did he just say what I think he said?_ He didn't know how to respond or if this was some new kind of trick. It just didn't make sense and he wondered vaguely if he had fallen in his attempt to run down the stairs while shoving his book into his bag, and banged his head, knocking himself into a coma, in which his dreams consisted of impossible occurrences and enemies being nice. If this was a dream, he wanted out; he was scared.  
  
Goyle smirked at the raven-haired boy's reaction before continuing. "So, let's make a deal. We stay out of your business and you stay out of ours. No more fighting, okay?" He held out his hand to shake on it. Crabbe stood back watching the exchange, silently allowing Goyle to speak for him.  
  
Harry stared down at the hand warily, not sure if he should shake the mammoth's hand and afraid of what kind of curse might befall him if he did. He decided not to risk it. He very openly pulled his hand behind his back and nodded to show that he agreed with them, but that they would have to earn his trust.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle nodded back, accepting whatever they could get.

When Harry made a move to get past them, they let him go – no trouble, no tripping, and no curses being thrown at his open back.  
  
"What the bloody hell was that all about?" he grumbled to himself.  
  
"Can you tell your friends that we're sorry?" Goyle yelled after him.  
  
"Sure," Harry called back, not turning around, still wondering if this was all a dream._  
_  
Suddenly, he remembered Transfiguration class and his impending doom at the hands of Professor McGonagall and took off running, thoughts of torture and castration at the hands of the testy woman plaguing his mind. Maybe he still had time to severely injury himself before he reached her class.  
  
The door was closed and he could hear Professor McGonagall's voice; class had already started. He was doomed. He slowly opened the door, panting for breath and met his Head of House's angry glare.  
  
"Sorry," he mumbled, fearfully. "I couldn't find my book."  
  
She eyed him coldly, no pity evident. "I will not tolerate lateness, especially from a member of my house. Five points from Gryffindor and the next time Mr. Potter, I will take away one point for every second you are late."  
  
The class did the math in their head and gasped. It didn't seem like much, but it quickly added up. One minute of lateness would be sixty seconds – sixty points.  
  
Harry gulped. "Yes, Professor McGonagall."  
  
He quickly took his seat next to Ron and tried to pull out his supplies as quietly as he possibly could. He was afraid to incite her anger once again.  
  
Once he was situated his thoughts returned to his encounter with Crabbe and Goyle. It still didn't make any sense, unless they had been planning to make him late on purpose. He ripped off a piece of parchment and started writing.  
  
Ron, I think Malfroy and the Troll Patrol had  
a fight or something. Crabbe and Goyle just  
apologized for all the trouble they caused us  
and they asked me to pass on the message.  
  
Ron read the note and responded.  
  
It has to be part of some kind of trap. We'll  
ask Hermione when class is over.  
  
Harry nodded in agreement and they waited for class to end. It was review anyway. It wasn't like they needed to listen or anything.  
  
(Later that day)  
  
Hermione was pushing the food around her plate, thinking about what Harry and Ron had said earlier that day. She hated unsolved mysteries such as this because they distracted her from more productive thoughts.  
  
She was staring intently at the Slytherin table and, as Harry had told her, it did appear as if Malfroy and his bodyguards were no longer on speaking terms. Malfroy was completely ignoring the two and seemed to be entirely absorbed in his conversation with Pansy.  
  
Suddenly, an idea hit her upside her head.  
  
"Ron," she announced with knowledge induced glee. "I think I know what's going on."  
  
Both Ron and Harry looked at her expectantly.  
  
"This is of course only a theory," she explained. "...but maybe, just maybe I think I know what might have happened between them." She paused to catch her breath.

"Crabbe and Goyle were only mean to us because Malfroy told them to be, right?" They nodded in agreement because that was the way it always seemed.

"They would probably not have even thought to mess with us in the first place without Malfroy's prompting. Now let's say Malfroy was interested in a girl and started ignoring the two. They would be left without commands and be as they normally would be, correct? So, I think that Malfroy has fallen in love with Pansy, leaving Crabbe and Goyle on their own because he is too busy for them."  
  
Harry and Ron both glanced over to the Slytherin table, testing their newly acquired knowledge.  
  
"It makes sense," Ron admitted.  
  
"Yeah, it does," Harry agreed.  
  
They both continued to stare at the group in wonder.  
  
"But that's good news because we won't be terrorized by them anymore," Hermione stated hopefully. "Now we can concentrate on more important things." She left the 'more important things' unsaid, knowing that the two were bright enough to get the hint.  
  
They shrugged and went back to their food. Secretly, they were both a little disappointed. Even though the fighting was a little annoying, it was still kind of fun. The rush of adrenalin was exciting.

Endnote: The next one will be up soon.

Thanks to murray the leprauchan for the review. If you want a muse I'll gladly donate one. They like plaguing me while I try to sleep, especially since I never have enough time to put their inspiration to good use. I work Monday through Friday, from 6:00 am to 8:00 pm during the summer. It's so not fun.


	3. Revenge is Sweet But Evil is Sweeter

Title: Un-fucking-titled

Disclaimer: I'm still working on capturing them, but no, currently they are not mine. ::sighs::

Rating: R

Author's Note: Again it is unedited and the next chapter of Trees Are Delicious will probably be unedited too.

**Revised ****8-16-04**

Revenge is Sweet But Evil is Sweeter

(Quidditch practice, after tryouts)  
  
The Gryffindors were out on the field practicing when the Slytherin team arrived. Once they noticed, they came to a stop on their brooms and looked down warily, hovering a few feet above the ground.  
  
"Do you mind," one of the girls on the Gryffindor team snarled," We're trying to practice here and we don't need an audience."  
  
"Well," Draco drawled, barely containing his glee. "It's our turn to practice, so get off the field."  
  
"No it's not," she argued. "Gryffindor gets the field on Tuesdays and Fridays"  
  
"And?" he asked cockily.  
  
"And that means we get to practice today," she shot back defiantly, slightly unnerved by the blonde's confidence.  
  
"Not according to this wonderful little note from Professor Snape," Draco challenged, pulling out a piece of parchment and waving it in front of their faces in amusement.  
  
The Gryffindors shifted nervously on their brooms, most remembering a similar occurrence a few years back. Draco smirked at them, pleased by their reaction.  
  
"My father just bought the team new brooms and we need the extra practice so that we can get used to them," he explained haughtily.  
  
The Slytherin team pulled out their new brooms and held them up to allow the Gryffindor's a better view. The team paled considerably, but most were too shocked to respond.  
  
"You see, we have to get used to the speed of our new brooms or we could have a fatal accident," the blond called in a sing-song voice.  
  
The Gryffindor team huffed in outrage.

"Good, fall off your brooms," Ginny snarled.  
  
"This isn't fair," Ron cried in indignation. "We have new people we need to train."  
  
"Don't worry," Draco retorted, his smile turning wicked. "All the practice in the world won't help you this season."  
  
"And what's that suppose to mean?" Andrew challenged, bristling slightly in his anger.  
  
"What I mean is," the Slytherin continued. "…that this season you won't win no matter how hard you try, especially if you intend to keep Weasley on your team. We all know that the last game he played was a fluke."  
  
Ron turned red, shaking with suppressed anger.

Sensing that the boy was about to snap, Draco quickly added, "Hurry up and get off the field, or do I need to get Professor Snape to force you off."

Professor Snape appeared at the edge of the pitch, glaring them down in a threatening manner. With his appearance the students realized that there was nothing they could do and one by one the Gryffindor team landed, each shooting dirty looks at the Slytherins as they passed.

Harry was the last to land. He walked past with his head held high, not even sparing a glance at the Slytherins. Malfroy couldn't resist the urge. As Harry passed in front of him, he moved his foot out in Harry's path. The green-eyed boy was completely oblivious. His foot caught Draco's, as he walked passed, causing him to loose his balance and fall. The Slytherins snickered at Harry's sprawled out form on the ground.  
  
"Maybe you should learn how to walk," Malfroy taunted.  
  
Slowly, Harry got to his feet, dusting himself off. He meant to walk away and get back at Malfroy later, but the sound of Malfroy snickering caused him to snap. He spun around and punched the boy right in the face.  
  
"Potter," Snapped thundered, crossing the field like a rabid bat, his cloak billowing out behind him. "That was uncalled for. You will be serving detention with me on Monday."  
  
"But sir, he tripped me," the raven-haired boy cried in indignation, unwilling to admit that he had overreacted.  
  
"Don't try to weasel your way out of this one by making up stories. I was standing right there and all that I saw was you tripping over your own robes. If you care to argue with me any further I'll give you another day of detention," the Potions Master growled.  
  
Harry glared at the man before stalking off, visibly shaking with uncontrollable anger. He stormed into the locker room and punched the nearest wall, attracting the team's attention.  
  
"I hate him," he screamed and punched the wall again, unconcerned by the fact that he had an audience. "I bloody hate him."  
  
The team nodded in agreement, unfazed by his anger. Ron placed his hand sympathetically on his best friends shoulder.

"We all do," the red-head soothed. "But don't worry; we'll get him back by winning all our matches."

(The Slytherin Common Room)  
  
Draco was in the center of a group of fawning girls, reveling in the attention he was getting. Girls just naturally seemed to adore him and they were always eager to listen to his stories.  
  
"The Gryffindors weren't leaving, so I had to scare them off, but it worked. They all ran off the field like a bunch of whipped mutts. It was great." The group around him was hanging on his every word and so he continued.  
  
"And as Potter was walking off the field he tripped over his own robes and fell flat on his face." The girls squealed in delight. "We of course found this hilarious so we started laughing and he got all pissed off and punched me in the nose," Draco whined.  
  
"Aww, poor Draco," Pansy cooed, curling closer to the blond haired boy.  
  
"What did you do?" a first year questioned eagerly.  
  
"Well, I was going to beat the bloody crap out of him, but Snape showed up and gave him detention instead. He would have been so dead otherwise. Then, Snape made me go see Madame Pomfrey. She said that if Potter had punched me any harder he would have broken my nose. It was bleeding like crazy."  
  
The girls gasped in surprise at his announcement before becoming angry.  
  
"He only got detention," one of them cried in indignation.  
  
"Yeah, he should have been expelled," another girl asserted.  
  
"I know," Draco snarled angrily. "…but Dumbledore wouldn't do that. In his mind Potter is a perfect little angel."  
  
"He's a menace though," Pansy voiced. "Pretty soon, he'll be hexing first years in the hall for no reason."  
  
The girls all nodded.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Draco drawled. "I won't let him get away with it. Just because most of the teachers turn a blind eye to his behavior doesn't mean I have to."  
  
The girls began fawning on him as he smiled confidently. His day was definitely looking up.  
  
"You're so brave," they cooed in adoration.  
  
Inside Pansy was disgusted by the display, but being friends with Draco did have its perks and all she had to do was suck up a little.

Endnote: Feed the muses, please review, because if you feed them they might allow me to sleep. ::twitches::

Thanks to murray the leprauchan for the review. I hope the muses aren't duds and when I get a chance I'll read your stories also. I promise that the next chapter will be longer.


	4. A Cupboard?

Title: Un-fucking-titled  
  
Disclaimer: They are mine, I promise. ("She's in denial," her cat comments, shaking her head in disapproval.)  
  
Rating: R  
  
Author's Note: I'm sorry this took so long. I was at orientation and it sucked. Everyone just went on and on about how important academics is at their school. I could have shot myself. Anyway, on to the story.  
  
A Cupboard?  
  
Hagrid's Class  
  
Draco walked out sneering at the Gryffindor's and Hagrid. "What are you going to sic on us this time?" he drawled.  
  
Harry tensed at the words, visibly shaking. Even though two days had passed he was still pissed off, but it wasn't like Draco cared. He smirked at the boy before joining Pansy.  
  
The Golden Trio clumped together smiling at Hagrid, but Hagrid did not notice, he seemed to be lost in thought.  
  
He drew himself up and took a deep nervous breath. "I'm sorry ter disappoint yeh, but the creatures we will be studyin' haven't arrived yet."  
  
He frowned when some of the students sighed in relief.  
  
"Anyway, I ask that all of yeh open yer books ter page 17 and read all the way ter page 24."  
  
Most of the students groaned at the announcement, but a few complied without complaint. Draco snarl at Hagrid before pulling out his own book and began reading. He was close enough to the Golden Trio that he could listen to their conversation, but far enough away so that it would not appear as if he was trying to eavesdrop. Fighting them head on was dangerous, but if he was able to get a little dirt on them then he could spread some nasty rumor that would make their lives miserable.  
  
"Hey Harry," Ron said in a hushed voice, pretending that he was reading. "You still haven't told us how your summer went. You had to stay the entire summer with the Dursley's, so they better have treated you right."  
  
Harry gave Ron a pained look and went back to pretending like he was reading.  
  
"It was fine," he mumbled.  
  
"That's what you've been saying to everyone, but I want to hear details. I need to know how badly I have to hex the Dursley's when I'm old enough to use magic outside of school."  
  
Harry was quiet for a long time before replying, "I just don't want to talk about it right now, all right. I'd rather just forget the entire experience."  
  
"Why? What happened? Did they lock you back in the cupboard and starve you again?" Ron questioned, clearly horrified at the idea of his best friend suffering because he was on vacation with his family and therefore unable to have Harry over as they usually did.  
  
Hermione kicked Ron under the table to get him to drop the subject; Ron did so very grudgingly.  
  
Draco was smirking to himself. _Locked in the cupboard?_ He snorted. _He probably deserved it. His family must have gotten tired of his holier-than-thou attitude and decided to humble him a bit. I wish I could have been there. I hope they hit him too.  
_  
Draco gave Harry a quick once over with his eyes. The boy did appear to look considerably thinner than he was at the end of last year. _I guess they did starve him._ Draco snickered. _Serves him right; the prick.  
_  
Hagrid shot him a look as he continued to snicker and immediately Draco went back to reading.  
  
The giant then walked towards Harry's group, put his hand on the boy's shoulder and smiled warmly at him before walking away.  
  
"Favoritist bastard," Draco growled at the man's back.  
  
The Great Hall, Lunch Time  
  
Draco sat, surrounded by his fellow Slytherins.  
  
"Guess what?" he announced.  
  
"What?" Pansy asked, eagerly.  
  
"I just learned something very interesting about everyone's favorite little Gryffindork."  
  
The Slytherin's eyes lit up with excitement.  
  
"His family starves him and keeps him locked up in a cupboard," he announced with relish.  
  
They gaped at him in surprise.  
  
"Isn't that great?" he asked, suddenly realizing that few were smiling.  
  
"That's horrible," Goyle said in distaste, a few other Slytherins nodded in response.  
  
"Who cares?" Draco smirked. "The prat deserves it. His family was probably sick and tired of Harry always bossing them around and getting his way."  
  
A few of the Slytherins were won over to Draco's side and began smiling at the idea, but Crabbe and Goyle still looked horrified. That made Draco slightly upset.  
  
"Why do you care what happens to Mr. I'm-so-special-even-my crap-doesn't-stink?" he snarled, angrily. Pansy snickered along with a few other Slytherins, but Crabbe and Goyle still appeared to be upset.  
  
"Fine, be a traitor," he growled before storming off.  
  
Endnote: I know, I know. ::holds hands up in a gesture of surrender:: It's short but I wanted to post something. Also, I realize that most author's like to have Draco suddenly begin to feel sorry for Harry when he realizes the shit he's gone through, but I personally believe that Draco would find it amusing and have no pity whatsoever.

Review Response: I would like to give thanks to my two lovely reviewers, murray the leprauchan and FredandGeorgeRmine for appeasing the cold-hearted muses by telling them off and giving them chocolate. This chapter is for both of you and the next chapter will have the match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, just as a treat for both of you. I love you!!! (Her cat, Xena, rolls her eyes in disgust.)


	5. The Quidditch Match From Hell

Title: Un-fucking-titled  
  
Disclaimer: My cat has just informed me of the fact that I'm delusional. You see, I was under the impression that J.K. Rowling had given me her characters as a graduation present, but I guess that was only a dream. I apologize for claiming ownership of them, but it was a damn good dream. I was hoping to stay delusional.  
  
Rating: Eventually R  
  
Author's Note: A big long Quidditch match as promised. I hope it's exciting and gets your adrenaline pumping, but don't be disappointed when it falls short of expectations. Writing Quidditch matches is difficult. Oh and earlier I made it seem as if Dean was on the team, I went back and changed that. Sorry people, he's not. I had him there because I couldn't remember the names of the new players in OotP. Have fun and review.  
  
The Quidditch Match From Hell   
  
The Great Hall, Breakfast  
  
Draco felt his stomach tighten into a nervous knot. Today was judgment day and he was about to discover whether or not all those private lessons had gotten him closer to Harry's skill or not. The idea of possibly failing made him nauseous.  
  
"Eat something," Pansy chided.  
  
He looked down at his breakfast and felt considerably sicker. "No thanks," he mumbled.  
  
The members of the Slytherin team had an air of confidence about them, but there were tell-tale signs that showed just how nervous they were and none of them were eating. This was judgment day for them as well.  
  
They had practiced hard on their brooms every chance they got for weeks and they hoped and prayed that it was enough, but they had a nagging suspicion that it wasn't enough.  
  
Draco had to do something about their deteriorating moral. He plastered a big confident smirk on his face and began speaking. "Gryffindor doesn't stand a chance this year. We have better brooms, we took private lessons all summer, and while we've been gaining talented players each year, they've been loosing them. At the moment their team is the worst it's ever been, even with Potter to help, and our team is the best it's ever been."  
  
Smiles slowly spread on everyone's face as they realized the truth of Draco's words. Their team was the best it had ever been and the Gryffindor team had lost a lot of its most valuable players due to graduation.  
  
"Draco's right," Millicent asserted. "We are going to win for sure. We've been practicing like crazy and we are just plain better than them."  
  
Surprisingly, Montague had allowed a girl on the team, which was a first for the Slytherins. The team had been caught completely off guard by her talent. She was unwilling to allow anything get past her and therefore had been awarded the role of Keeper on the Slytherin team. Since then, not a single person had been able to score during practice.  
  
Big gloating smiles were seen everywhere. They had completely neglected to remember the fact that the Gryffindors would be unable to score a single point. Not only would they be unable to get a Quaffle past Millicent, but Draco was bound and determined to get the snitch before Potter.  
  
"Let's go kick some arse," Blaise announced with a big confident grin as he got up and started moving towards the door.  
  
The team hollered and whistled as they left the Great Hall, all nervousness now non-existent.  
  
The Game  
  
Lee Jordan's voice could be heard by the waiting players. "Today is going to be a very exciting match due to the fact that the members of the Slytherin team all have new brooms." He struggled to keep the envy out of his voice. "I wonder who will win this match. I've been sneaking a peak at the team practices and I can tell you that this season will be amazing. Each house seems to have very good players and the competition will be rough. Wait a minute..." he paused, talking to Professor McGonagall.  
  
"All right, let's get this show on the road," he screamed. The crowd went wild as the teams entered.  
  
"First, the Gryffindor team; no new faces this year, but some changes have been made. Harry Potter has once again been allowed to play the position of Seeker, Ginny has been moved to the Chaser position with the other two girls, Alicia Spinnet and their lovely captain, Katie Bell. We'll miss you next year. Andrew Kirke and Jack Sloper have been allowed to stay on as Beaters and although we miss the Weasley twins, I believe the world of Quidditch can only handle two Weasleys per team. That brings us to our other Weasley, Ronald Weasley. Hopefully all the practice he's done this summer has paid off. And finally, the best Seeker Hogwarts has seen in many years, Harry Potter."  
  
He waited for the cheers to die down before continuing. "And then, there's the Slytherin team. Montague, Warrington, and Zabini are the Chasers. Crabbe and Goyle are the Beaters. Malfoy plays seeker and finally Bulstrode as the Keeper. At first I questioned their judgment, but after seeing her play all I could say was, 'Damn she's good.' Maybe her participation will even the odds," he said, but it was clear he highly doubted that the Gryffindors would lose.  
  
The Slytherins let it be known that they had complete confidence in their team, by cheering loudly for a good five minutes.  
  
The teams faced off in the center of the field, each trying to out-glare the other.  
  
"I want a good clean game," Madame Hooch announced looking pointedly at the Slytherin team.  
  
"Before we begin," Draco politely interrupted. "Could we warm-up a little?"  
  
She narrowed her eyes and looked at him in suspicion. The Gryffindors looked confused.  
  
"You know, fly a couple of laps, get the blood running. It's a little cold," he explained.  
  
She thought about it before nodding. "All right, but don't you dare try to pull anything," she warned.  
  
Draco smile charmingly. "Of course not," he replied slyly and took off with the rest of the team. They flew around the pitch a couple of times, showing off the speed of their new brooms.

Yesterday, the team decided to do a few laps in order to make the Gryffindors nervous and it worked. They began shifting uncomfortably on the ground, trying not to watch the blurs that were the Slytherin players.  
  
Harry noticed the rising nervousness in his fellow players.  
  
"They've always had better brooms, but don't worry," he said reassuringly. "The best brooms in the world couldn't make their team good. They suck so much that those brooms are wasted on them."  
  
The Gryffindor team smile at the joke, lightening the mood instantly.  
  
"Come on, let's do a couple laps and show them that we aren't impressed."  
  
The team nodded enthusiastically and followed Harry into the sky. When they landed, the Slytherin team was waiting for them, looking extremely put out.  
  
"Now that we are done with that, I want a nice clean game," she restated. "Now everyone get in position."  
  
They faced off again, the whistle was blown, and the players were up in the air.  
  
"Slytherin in possession, Montague passes to Warrington and surprisingly Warrington catches...ouch, Professor, what was that for? I'm not being biased, it's the truth. I'm constantly surprised by the fact that he can catch something without falling off his broom."  
  
The game continued as the Gryffindors struggled to keep up with the Slytherin brooms. Finally, Katie was able to get the Quaffle.  
  
"She shoots...she misses, intercepted by Bulstrode; tough luck Katie."  
  
Harry glanced down, catching the smug look on Millicent's face, before going back to looking for the snitch. This game was going to be a disaster if he didn't find it soon.  
  
"Zabini shoots and...it's in." Lee Jordan whistled loudly. "Damn that was fast, Ron didn't even know what hit him, but don't worry Ron, I highly doubt if Wood could have blocked that one," he added seeing the look on Ron's face. Ron brightened a little.  
  
The Slytherins got a few more passed and each time they scored it became easier for them to get more passed. Ron had lost all confidence he had in himself and now posed no threat. Harry really needed to find the snitch fast.  
  
"Currently the score is 90-0 with Slytherin in the lead." The Slytherins cheered while the Gryffindors booed and hissed.  
  
Suddenly, a flash of gold momentarily blinded Harry, but when he looked he realized that it was only someone's watch. His spirits sank slightly, but he pulled himself together and began scanning the pitch with an increased urgency.  
  
He looked up briefly and his eyes caught a familiar glint. The snitch was floating lazily above their heads. It suddenly moved in front of the sun and he lost sight of it. He scanned the sky a few more times, but couldn't find it.  
  
"Right there, right there," he heard someone in the crowd yelling. He followed their pointing and saw the snitch about twenty feet off the ground. With no thought, he rushed forward. Draco saw the sudden movement and shot off after the boy.  
  
The snitch attempted to evade them both by zigzagging down the field. Harry's toes brushed against the blades of grass as he rushed after it. Draco pulled up alongside him with a determined look upon his face. A few years ago, Draco would have been taunting Harry as they rushed off towards the snitch together, but Draco seemed to have matured since they last played.  
  
Harry struggled to maintain a lead, but Draco's broom was just too fast. Draco slowly began passing the boy. Suddenly the snitch darted up, stopping in front of Madame Hooch. Draco pulled up with Harry following closely behind.  
  
The snitch hovered tauntingly and Draco went for it, flying straight at Madame Hooch. Madame Hooch was so absorbed in the game that she didn't notice. Then the snitch dropped again, but it was too late for Draco to change direction; he went careening into Madame Hooch, instantly becoming entangled in flailing limbs.  
  
Harry spared them a quick glance and went after the snitch. It darted around once again, but Harry faultlessly pursued it, closing the distance rapidly. He placed one hand on his broom to steady himself and the other hand reached out, quickly clasping the struggling snitch in his hands.  
  
Sound immediately returned. "...AND HE'S GOT IT, HE'S GOT THE SNITCH. GRYFFINDOR HAS WON 150 TO 110!!!" Lee Jordan screamed in excitement.  
  
The team, happily pounced Harry each of them attempting to hug him all at once.  
  
"We won, we won, we won," Ginny chanted in glee while jumping up and down. She shoved through the crowd around Harry and hugged him too.  
  
"I could kiss you," she cried and she did.  
  
Harry looked shocked for a minute, but smiled when he realized that it was just a friendly kiss with no meaning. He breathed a sigh of relief and began laughing.  
  
More people were pressing around him and before he knew it, he was hoisted up above everyone's head and carried back to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Endnote: I was just wondering if I should give this a title and if I did, what would it be? I'm sorry that my chapters are so short, but I make up for it by updating quickly.  
  
Hey, look down. OMG it's a button, push it and praise me, bitch. ::snickers::


	6. Of Pain and Tears

Title: Un-fucking-titled  
  
Disclaimer: ::sticks out tongue::  
  
Rating: Eventually R  
  
Author's Note: I've made some changes. I changed the chapter titles and I've changed the category. When I got done writing this chapter it was clear to me that this story was not humorous in the least.  
  
Of Pain and Tears  
  
Gryffindor Dorms, After the Victory Party  
  
Harry awoke, gasping for breath. His scar was throbbing painfully, but there was nothing he could do about it; it always hurt.  
  
Since he didn't relish the idea of sitting around waiting for the pain to subside, he thought he would go for a walk. Thankfully, the party was over and all of his fellow students were sound asleep, dreaming of Quidditch and the House Cup.  
  
His invisibility cloak was tucked under his bed; he didn't want his house mates accidentally finding it, but he knew he needed a better hiding spot. He made too much noise trying to get it out.  
  
He whipped it around his shoulders and left with the Marauder's Map in hand.  
  
"I solemnly swear that I am up to not good," he whispered, lightly tapping it with his wand. The ink spidered out across the parchment, slowly taking distinguishable shapes.  
  
Mr. Filch was on the third floor and Mrs. Norris, his trusty devil-spawn of a cat, was on the first floor, but those weren't the only names that appeared. Two names in particular caught his eye.  
  
Draco Malfroy and Lucius Malfroy.  
  
They stood just outside of the entrance to the dungeons and didn't appear to be moving at all.  
  
He should have gotten a teacher, he knew he should have, but he was too curious to let a chance like this escape him. _Why would Lucius Malfroy, a known death eater, risk being caught on school grounds just so that he could talk to his son? And what could this conversation be about?  
_  
Without a second thought, he rushed to the dungeons. As he got closer to the pair, he tried to keep his breathing quiet. He didn't have to worry about his feet making noise because he was only wearing his socks.  
  
"How could you cause this family such embarrassment?" Lucius screamed, struggling to keep his voice down.  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't meant to; the broom was too fast," Malfroy replied, his voice slightly choked up.  
  
"Sometimes I think you do this stuff on purpose just to get our attention," Lucius continued. "We've raised you better than this! It's pathetic that even after I went through all of the trouble of buying you a new broom getting you the best private instruction that money can buy, you still manage to disappoint me."  
  
Harry peaked around the corner to get a better look. Malfroy had his head hung low, not daring to meet his father's angry glare. Lucius was red-faced and spitting with every word. It was a rather shocking sight.  
  
Lucius sighed. "Maybe I've been too easy on you. I thought that I didn't need to be as strict with you as my father was with me, but it seems I was wrong. Malfroy's do not fail at anything; you don't seem to understand this," he paused, heavily considering his next action. "I hate to do this to my own son, but I can't think of any other way to get through to you."  
  
Malfroy looked up fearfully as Lucius pointed his wand at him. "Silencio," his words rolled easily of his tongue, ignoring Malfroy's fearful look. "Can't have you waking anyone up."  
  
Harry watched on in horror, unable to force his brain into rational thought.  
  
Lucius' face was a mask of utter cold.  
  
"Crucio."  
  
Malfroy fell to the ground, his mouth open in a silent scream. Harry shuddered, remembering the feel of the Cruciatus Curse; how it felt as if the very fibers of his body were being violently ripped to pieces. _How can a father do that to his son?  
_  
After what seemed like an eternity, Lucius lifted both spells.  
  
"I hope you remember not to disappoint me," Lucius snarled. With that he turned around, leaving his son still panting on the floor, and walked down the hall, past Harry.  
  
Harry didn't know what to do, so he just watched as Malfroy lay there with tears in his eyes and breathe ragged. _It's not like I can try to help him; he'd only hate me more. And besides he's been nothing but a jerk to me for all these years. Why should I help him?  
_  
So he walked away, a horrible feeling of knowing he was making the wrong decision weighing heavily on his mind.  
  
_I just don't want to get involved. It's none of my business anyway. If Malfroy wanted someone to help him, he would tell someone, right? Malfroy's a big boy now, he can take care of himself._  
  
He couldn't shake the guilty feeling that was gnawing at his insides even though he kept telling himself that it wasn't his problem to deal with.  
  
He took off his invisibility cloak, muttered the password, and walked into the portrait hole, walked right into a very angry looking Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Mr. Potter, I thought you would have learned by now that students are not allowed to be wandering the halls at all hours of the night, especially after having been caught on numerous occasions before and severely reprimanded."  
  
"What are you doing here?" Harry blurted without thinking. Professor McGonagall was rarely in their dorms.  
  
Her face reddened a little, but she replied, "If you must know, I was coming here to get you. Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to speak with you, but that does not mean that you are not in trouble. You will be serving your detention next Thursday with Professor Hagrid. I hope that after this you will finally understand that you can't just go about breaking the rules."  
  
Harry lowered his head, hoping that he looked sufficiently shameful. He had no intention of changing his rule-breaking behavior, but he did intend to be more careful next time.  
  
She accepted his humbled response. "Now come with me and I'll escort you to the Headmaster's office."  
  
She brushed past him and he followed a few steps back, still trying to keep up his humble, apologetic act.  
  
She stopped in front of the entrance to Dumbledore's office.  
  
"Ice Mice," she intoned and the familiar stairs appeared.  
  
Dumbledore had not requested to see him since last year and he wondered what the man wished to talk to him about. Professor McGonagall indicated that he should go on up and then walked briskly down the hall in the opposite direction.  
  
Harry opened the door with a small amount of trepidation and doubt. Now would be the perfect time for him to tell Dumbledore about Malfroy, but when he stepped inside he couldn't seem to find the words that he needed in order to convey what he had witnessed.  
  
He stood there, dumbly, waiting to hear what Dumbledore wanted to tell him.  
  
"Ah Harry," he said looking up with a slight smile. He had been unable to smile properly at Harry since their last conversation - the conversation in which Dumbledore had explained Harry's destiny. "I have just got an owl from Remus; he wanted to know how you were handling things. He also informed me of the fact that he intends to stay here for the Holidays. I decided that it would be best if I told you now, so that you wouldn't make any other plans for Christmas vacation. That is, if you want to stay here with Remus?"  
  
Again, Harry found himself floundering for the right words. He didn't want to see Remus - couldn't bring himself to see him. It still hurt too much and seeing him would make it worse. He didn't want to be sucked back into the void of depression that he had just escaped from.  
  
"No," he replied quietly. "I already made plans with Ron and Hermione."  
  
It was a lie. He hadn't even given any thought to Christmas break because it was still a month away, but it was the best lie he could come up with.  
  
"I see," Dumbledore mumbled. "I guess I'll tell him then."  
  
Harry took that as his cue to leave and so he did.  
  
"He will be most disappointed."  
  
Harry winced at Dumbledore's words, but continued walking. If he stopped now, he knew he would do something he regretted. _I'll tell Dumbledore about Malfroy another day._

Endnote: That made me a little sad, just writing it. Damnit Harry go back there, swoop Draco up into your arms, and kiss him silly. Oh wait, it's my fault he didn't. ::looks sheepish::

Review Response:

Swiftrunner: I didn't intentionally make them similar. I just thought that Draco would be complaining about Harry because he would. I mean he has to have a reason for hating Harry even if that reason is all in his head. Thanks for the compliment anyway; it made me feel all warm and fuzzy.

murray the leprauchan: Don't worry. I posted those two chapters within a few hours of one another. If you had been able to review for both I would have thought you were a looser with no life because you were on the internet every waking hour.Not that I'm one to talk.

Well, have a pleasant day and review. I'm still trying to come up with a title that works so suggestions would be greatly appreciated.


	7. In Denial

Title: Un-fucking-titled

Disclaimer: Not mine. Now that was easy.

Rating: R

Author's Note: I'm sorry it took me a while to update. My writing was thrown off for a while there and it was for a very good reason too. A few days ago I came in from the pool and noticed I had acquired a birthmark (you know those darker patches of skin kind of birthmarks). I didn't think it was a normal thing to acquire a birthmark, so I showed it to my mom. She glanced at in disinterest and told me to keep an eye on it. That confused me so I asked why and she told me it might be skin cancer. Of course I laughed hysterically at her. "Mom," I gasped out between laughs. "I'm only eighteen. You can't get skin cancer when you're that young and plus isn't it with moles, not birth marks." She fixed me with a very sobering look and replied, "Your Uncle Drew had skin cancer when he was sixteen, but it was detected soon enough and removed." My smile disappeared, "You're shitting me," I responded in shock. She shook her head and went back to flipping through her magazine. "But I'm hardly ever out in the sun. I'm pretty much nocturnal. I hate the sun." She sighed and put down her magazine, clearly annoyed with my interruption. "When you were a kid we couldn't keep you inside. You were always outside swimming, climbing trees, coloring with chalk, riding your bike, and playing laser tag. It is very possible that you could get skin cancer." I stared at her for a long time and she went back to reading. "Yeah right," I said nonchalantly and walked away to take a shower, but even though I don't believe her it still got me really worried. I doubt she's right, but still…I don't know. I'll keep an eye on the stupid birthmark and if it turns out I'm dying then I won't have school or work to interrupt me from continuing this story. I promise to finish it before I die.

In Denial

The Great Hall, Breakfast

"Harry, that's horrible. You should have told a teacher immediately," Hermione scolded.

Harry had decided to tell his two best friends about the incident last night. He knew he had to tell someone, but he didn't know how to go about doing it.

"Yeah," Ron added. "I don't necessarily like the git, but that is kind of horrid. I just can't believe it, although it explains a lot of things about Malfroy's personality."

Harry gave them both a pained look. "I know I should tell someone, but who?"

"You need to tell Dumbledore as soon as possible," Hermione responded.

Ron rolled his eyes, "Didn't see that coming."

She glared at him. "I'm serious," she continued. "You should tell Dumbledore, he'll know what to do."

Harry let out a pained sighed, "I don't want to talk to Dumbledore."

They both stared at him in confusion. "Why?" they asked in unison.

"I just don't, all right?"

"Well then tell Professor McGonagall."

Harry remembered her angry face last night and wondered if she was still angry.

"I can't, she might still be mad at me."

"Harry James Potter," Hermione admonished. "How can you be so stupid? I understand that you hate Malfroy, we all do, but that is not a good enough reason to not help him. Now you are going to march your butt up into Professor McGonagall's class and tell her what you saw last night. She already knows you were out of bed, so there's no risk of you getting in anymore trouble. In fact, it might get you back on her good side."

Harry sighed again, resigned to his fate. "All right, I'll tell her before class."

He ate his breakfast quickly and went to look for his Head of House. She glared at him as he entered her classroom and he considered coming back another day, but Hermione's angry voice echoed in his mind.

"Professor, about last night…" he trailed off, struggling for words.

"You better not be trying to get out of your detention," she growled.

"No, I'm not, but last night…I saw something."

Her eyebrow arched slightly as she waited for him to continue.

"Lucius was yelling at Malfroy for loosing the Quidditch match and then he put him under the Cruciatus Curse."

A small gasp escaped Professor McGonagall's throat. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I wanted too, but…" he shrugged. "I was still kind of shocked and you were so mad at me…"

"Then why didn't you tell Dumbledore?"

Harry shrugged again. "I wanted too, but I didn't know how to tell him."

Professor McGonagall stared at him in shock. "I'll have to inform his Head of House immediately."

Harry nodded.

Professor Snape's classroom

Malfroy was waiting to hear why his Head of House had summoned him from breakfast.

"Malfroy, Potter has just informed us that he saw your father placing you under the Cruciatus Curse last night as punishment for loosing the match."

Draco paled slightly, but struggled to keep a slight smirk on his face.

"Oh really," he responded slyly. "Our little friend certainly does love his lies. I guess it's because he never had a mother to tell him that lying was wrong."

Snape studied him carefully.

"Come on," Draco snorted. "You don't honestly think my father would risk his safety by doing something so stupid, do you?"

"No," he grudgingly replied.

Draco was not about to rat out his father. Not only was it dangerous to get on his father's bad side, but he believed that his father had good intentions. It wasn't like his father enjoyed hurting him; he was just trying to help.__

Snape gave up, knowing that there was nothing he could do if Malfroy denied that it happened. He sighed, "All right then, go to class or you will be late."

Draco spun around and left as quickly as possible. _That was a close call. Stupid Potter, always trying to play the hero. Well, I don't need your stupid saving._

Endnote: There it is. I know most of you are wondering why Draco didn't tell the truth, so I'll explain. When I was younger these two boys lived across the street from me, Eric and Brandon. I was friends with the older boy, Eric, but he died. After that I decided to be there for Brandon. One day I was walking to the bus stop and I noticed Brandon's father yelling at him. I was scared so I kept on walking and pretended not to notice, but then Brandon's father punched him right in the face, completely knocking him to the ground. At school, I told the counselor what had happened. She called Brandon into the office and he denied everything. Whether he was scared of his father or if he felt liked he deserved it, I'll never know because he refused to talk to me. The counselor's couldn't legally do anything unless he admitted that it happened. Thankfully, his mom eventually got a divorce and a restraining order, but still the mental damage was already done and needless to say, Brandon is fucked up in the head.

I'm sorry that this scene seemed so abrupt, but I'm still a little preoccupied. Also, I went back and edited the earlier chapters. Don't worry, it's nothing big. I also edited my profile. Check it out.

Review Response:

FredandGeorgeRmine: I know I should have, but don't worry, one day they will be all mushy and close. I promise. In fact, I'm almost tempted to skip all the chapters in between and get to the good parts.


	8. Captured

Title: Un-fucking-titled

Disclaimer: You know the drill.

Rating: R for excessive language and for an eventual lemon or two.

Author's Note: I was distracted by my boyfriend, sorry. ::hangs her head in shame:: But you would be distracted too. He's a sweetie, but only with me. He's an ass to everyone else. It's because we can relate to each other due to our similar childhood. I've updated and hopefully this chapter isn't crappy filler like the last chapter. It does have a few important scenes. I was rather disappointed by the lack of reviews, but then again that last chapter was crap and I wouldn't have reviewed to it either. It would have been nice for someone to inform me of the fact that it was crap though, at least then I would know that I wasn't about to be abandoned by my lovely reviewers.

Captured

Draco stalked down the hall in angry huff, glaring at everyone he passed. _Stupid Potter._ He wasn't sure how Potter found out, but what he did know one thing; Potter was spying on him. _He's probably following me around, waiting for me to screw up so that he can rat me out. Just bloody fucking great. I have to teach him that it's not nice to be a snoop._

Potter had remedial potions with Snape on Tuesday, which would give him a wonderful opportunity to catch Potter without his fan club. The dungeons provided a lot of nooks and crannies to hide in. He could lay in wait for Potter to pass and ambush him. With the odds evened out like that, he was sure to win.

(Gryffindor Tower, Later that day)

Harry entered looking weary.

"So," Hermione began, looking up from the book she had been reading. "What did Professor McGonagall have to say about Malfoy?"

"She told Professor Snape," Harry replied with a shrug.

"And?" Hermione pressed.

"And Malfoy denied the whole thing, so legally there's nothing they can do but keep a closer eye on him," Harry answered.

Hermione looked slightly appalled. "Why would he do something like that? If he's being abused he should tell someone."

"Maybe he wants to deal with this on his own. I don't think he could stand the idea of having someone pity him," Harry explained. "It's not really our concern though, so just drop it."

She looked slightly miffed, but decided against saying anything more. There was nothing she could do about it anyway.

(Snape's Classroom, Tuesday)

Occulmency, Harry's most hated pastime, but he knew he had to continue. It was all his fault that Sirius was dead and so the only thing he could do now was make it up to him by learning what he was supposed to have learned and killing Voldemort.

He stood up off the ground once again, dusting himself off and cursing his inability to do this.

"Should we try again," Snape asked in a condescending tone.

"Yes," he grudgingly replied.

He struggled to clear his mind, but was failing miserably, especially after that last snippet of memory. It was flashing in his mind even as Snape began the incantation.

Suddenly he was back there again.

It was recess and 10 year old Harry was sitting against the wall, idly squishing ants that were unfortunate enough to get close to him. The popular girls were sitting on or around a bench talking about whatever it was that girls talked about, while the less popular girls were hovering around in hopes that they might be included in the conversation.

Dudley was at home, sick, and so the rest of the boys were contentedly playing basketball on the only court, with the only ball. Harry was staring at them in envy.

_Just go up and ask them to play, _he mentally scolded himself. _I won't know unless I try and maybe without __Dudley__ here they'll give me a chance. Maybe they are only mean to me because __Dudley__ scares them into being mean to me._

With a nod, Harry stood up, determined to at least ask. _The worst they could do is beat me up and how would that be different from any other day._

He walked up to them with false confidence.

"Hey guys, can I play?"

A few of the boys began laughing.

"You want to play?" Piers snorted. "I'm sorry, but we don't let wimps like you play with us."

Harry hung his head down momentarily. _I knew this idea wouldn't work. _He turned and began walking away, but then an idea came to him. _What if I just play with them anyway and when I steal the ball and score they'll be so amazed that they'll be fighting each other over whose team I play on?_

He started walking back and stopped firmly in the middle of the court, ignoring the shocked expressions of most of the boys.

"You can't stop me from playing," he explained. "So, I'm going to play until you admit that I'm good."

Harry had never played basketball before, but couldn't see how it could be that hard. All he had to do was get the ball and toss it into the hoop. He could do that.

The boys began smirking. "We told you, we don't let wimps play, so go away you little freak."

Harry stared back defiantly, much more confident now that Dudley wasn't there. "Well I'm not leaving, so you'll just have to accept that."

They gave him disbelieving looks, but didn't let that distract them from their games for too long. Instead they opted to ignore the boy completely.

Piers had the ball and as he was passing it to Dennis, Harry darted in and intercepted it. He smiled back triumphantly before being tackled by someone from behind and having the ball knocked out of his hand. Harry hit the ground hard, his shoulder taking the brunt of the weight, but he was bound and determined to prove something. What that something was, he wasn't quite sure. He stood up, dusted himself off and went after the ball again.

Dennis was about to shoot, but Harry made a grab for it, getting an elbow in the face instead. His lip cut on his teeth and he felt blood slowly dribble down his chin, but that didn't stop him. If he could just get the ball he'd…he wasn't quite sure, but something deep down inside was screaming at him to get the damn ball and score.

Harry made another attempt but collided with Piers' back, causing him to loose his balance and fall backwards. The pavement dug painfully into his hands and he blew on them to relieve some of the pain, as he stood. He moved towards where the ball was, but again met Piers' back, this time he didn't fall. Everywhere Harry tried to move, Piers blocked him, and finally Harry got fed up. He roughly shoved into Piers' back with his uninjured shoulder.

Piers pulled away in shock. "The little fag just tried to feel me up," he cried indignantly.

Harry's scowl darkened. "I did not."

The other boys ignored him and continued to try and shoot goals. Every now and then one of them would accidentally knock him down, but he got up with a defiant glare and continued to go for the ball. His hands and knees were torn up and bleeding, he had a busted lip, his ass, shoulder, and hip were sore, sweat was trickling uncomfortably down between his shoulder blades, and he was panting for breath, but the idea of giving up never crossed his mind. He kept hoping that if he just got the ball, then something good would happen.

Dennis positioned himself to shoot, but Harry appeared in front of him, blocking his way. Annoyed, the boy brutally shoved Harry down, the force of it caused Harry to land on his back, knocking the air out of his lungs. He was gasping for breath, when the boy decided to dribble the ball on Harry's face. Instinctively, Harry covered his eyes, not wanting to get scolded by Aunt Petunia for breaking another pair of glasses. Instead the ball hit his already bleeding lip, causing Harry to release a small gasp of pain.

After bouncing off his face, the ball rolled a couple feet away, he watched its progress. Without any thought, Harry lunged for it, wrapping his body around it protectively.

"You idiot," the ring-leader scolded, slapping Dennis. "You let him get the damned ball."

"We can still get it back," the boy retorted.

"Yeah," the others chorused.

They crowded around him in thought. Harry refused to move and refused to give up, waiting for something to happen. He finally had the ball, but by the angry growls of his peers he was now certain that nothing good would happen. Despite that, his pride would not let him give up the ball he had struggled so hard to gain, so the boys were left with nothing else to do but kick the shit out of him.

Harry chocked back painful sobs as the boy's feet collided with his sides. He was certain to have broken ribs, but deep down inside he couldn't help but be happy that he had won.

Suddenly, Harry was back on the dungeon floor, panting, and feeling slightly nauseous.

"Why did you feel the need to get us stuck in that particular memory?" Snape asked coldly.

"Stuck?" Harry cried indignantly. "Oh, like I really wanted you to see that humiliating spectacle."

"Then explain to me why neither of us could escape from that memory?" Snape replied, eyebrow raised slightly.

"I don't know," Harry sputtered, standing up and gripping a table as the room swayed.

Snape studied the boy coldly for a moment. "Fine, that's enough for tonight then. Go to bed; I'm sick of looking at you," he spat.

Harry nodded gratefully and looked longingly at the door. _It seems so far away though. Can I really make it? _The room refused to stop spinning entirely and he took a shaky breath to calm himself before walking away. Once outside, he leaned against the wall to regain his composure. He couldn't return to the dorms looking gloomy or ill at ease or he risked being pounced upon by his overly concerned friends, although they would probably be too busy 'studying' to notice. He also noted with mild surprise that he was running a slight fever.

(Down the hall)

Draco heard a few footsteps and got ready, but then the steps stopped. He peered around the corner curiously and saw Harry leaning back with his head resting on the wall. Thankfully, he didn't notice that he was being watched.

Draco pulled his head back and waited; it was only a matter of time before the boy started walking again. He couldn't stand there all night, but that seemed to be what the boy was doing.

_Move damnit. Move so I can attack you and beat the bloody crap out of you. Move or I'll scream. _But the boy was still standing there.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, "Draco, you can come out. I know you're there."

Draco growled, but stood up and moved out of his niche.

"How did you figure it out?" Draco asked, his face a mask of hatred.

"Your angry breathing," Harry replied with a calm smirk.

Draco glared at him, pulling out his wand, and pointing it at the boys face. Rather than look scared Harry just raised an eyebrow and gave him an unfathomable look.

"What are you planning on doing?" he asked, evenly.

Draco smirked, "Crucio," he intoned with glee.

Harry fell to the ground with a slightly surprised yelp. His muscles tensed and his breathing became erratic, but Draco was slightly disappointed by its lack of effect. That had been the first time he had used the Cruciatus Curse, so it made sense that it wasn't that strong, but he was still disappointed.

He lifted the curse and as Harry was recovering from the after effects, Draco took his wand from his robes and smiled triumphantly.

"I guess I'll have to practice that one, but I have all night. I'm in no rush."

He quickly cast a spell to bind Harry's arms and legs. Then he picked the smaller boy up and carried him to an empty classroom a few feet down the hall.

_Wait until my father hears about this. He'll be so proud, but I'll wait until Christmas to tell him. It'll be the best Christmas present I've ever given him._

Endnote: That's the most I've written for one chapter. Wow! I guess it is easier to write when you have your own experiences to draw from. I had a horrible childhood and I have a lot of mental torture to draw on for Harry. That basketball incident was similar, but very different. I wanted to play ball with the boys, but they told me I couldn't play because I was a girl. That just made me want to prove them wrong, so I was determined to steal the ball away and make a shot. They continued to play and 'accidentally' shoved me down, tripped me, bounced the ball off my head, and then dribbled it on my face after I was down, but I refused to quit and when I got that ball they couldn't pry it from me for the world, even thought they were kicking the shit out of me. Even to this day I still get random sharp pains in my side that makes it momentarily difficult to breathe.


	9. Tortured

Title: Un-fucking-titled

Disclaimer: This is the last time I put this on here. I think we get the point.

Rating: R and this is also the last time I put this on here.

Author's Note: Well, here is the long-awaited update. I kind of lost the will power to continue this fic for a while when I got no reviews for the second time in a row. I mean, I know I'm not that good of a writer, but I didn't know I sucked that bad. ::shrugs:: I guess continuing with this story is more for myself than anyone else now. ::sighs::

Totured

(Abandoned Classroom)

Draco unceremoniously dropped Harry to the floor in an empty classroom. He cast a few silencing wards before grinning maliciously down at the boy squirming on the floor.

"Now that I have you, what will I do with you?" the blond pondered aloud.

Harry struggled against the ropes magically binding his hands, but it was to no avail, without his wand and the use of his limbs he was at the mercy of a very angry looking Slytherin.

"I'd hate to torture you while you're so helpless, but I can't risk you getting away from me."

Harry's eyes widened slightly.

"Draco," he said calmly, "You don't want to do this."

"Oh yeah?"

"I'm sorry your father is such an ass, but it would be foolish to take out your anger on me."

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously and he kicked Harry in the gut – hard.

"My father is not an ass, he's the best father a boy could ask for," he retorted angrily.

Harry struggled to catch his breath.

"Honestly Malfoy," he gasped. "You will regret this."

"No, you'll regret this. You'll regret your decision to follow me around and spy on me. You'll regret your decision to constantly make a fool of me. And you'll regret your decision to leave your pampered life and come here. Now stop talking, it's time for me to have some fun. My father always complained about my lack of skill with the Cruciatus Curse, but now I have the perfect practice toy to work on."

"Please don't do this," Harry begged.

Draco snorted, pointing his wand at the struggling Gryffindor.

"Crucio."

His muscles visibly tensed and a small whimper escaped his throat. Pain rippled throughout his body, but the pain was bearable. It was nothing like the pain he had previously experienced when in the hands of the Death Eaters.

Draco removed the curse, frowning, his grey eyes blazing with uncontrollable fury, as he waited for the dark-haired boy to catch his breath.

He took a deep breath, gathered all his hatred for the boy sprawled in front of him, and channeled it into the curse.

"Crucio."

Harry gasped in surprise and struggled to contain a scream that was itching to get out. This time the pain was much worse, like his bones were shattering and the fragments had been shot outwards into his flesh. He curled in on himself and struggled to breath, struggled to remain conscious. Dark spots obscured his vision. When the pain finally stopped he was acutely aware of the beads of sweat that were slowly rolling down his back.

The blond took a step closer and Harry flinched instinctively, expecting a sharp kick in the side, but none came.

"That was better," Draco smirked. "Now let's see if I can make you scream."

(Gryffindor Common Room)

Ron was struggling to pull himself away from Hermione.

"I really need to go," Ron explained. "Harry's probably up there waiting for me and you know what it's like. I'll walk in late and he'll give me this knowing look and then the other boys will begin their teasing."

"I understand," she replied with a smirk. He was so shy sometimes. It was kind of cute.

He drew her in for another kiss.

"It's just so hard to leave you - you temptress."

They smiled at each other for a long time.

"I should really get going too. If you think the boys are bad…" she trailed off as neither of them moved.

"Okay, on the count of three we'll both turn around and walk away."

The red-head nodded.

"One...two...three."

They both turned as one, refusing to look back in case they lost their resolve, and walked towards their separate dorms.

Ron marched up the stairs, preparing himself for the teasing that would ensue. The room was quiet – too quiet. Gulping, he opened the door and looked around. Dean and Seamus were looking at a dirty magazine that they had procured over the summer and Neville was staring blankly at his Potions homework, they didn't even so much as glance at him as he entered.

Harry was nowhere to be seen and he should have been back from his Occlumency lessons hours ago. _Where could he be?_ Harry's absence made him nervous and soon nervousness gave way to worry.

Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, Ron dug under the mattress until his hands came in contact with the folded up parchment he was searching for.

"I'll be back, I think I left something with Hermione," he announced to the room.

The boys turned to smirk at him knowingly, perhaps thinking that he was sneaking off to the astronomy tower to meet up with Hermione.

"Just don't get caught," Dean warned.

Ron nodded and took off down the stairs, leaving his roommates to their dirty speculations.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he intoned, touching his wand to the parchment. _I wish I had thought to bring the invisibility cloak,_ he lamented.

Ink began to spread from the center, forming the castle and its grounds. His eyes tore across the page frantically, until he found what he had been looking for. Harry was unmoving in an abandoned classroom near the dungeons. He scanned the rest of the map to plan the safest route and took off.

Worry was eating away at him, but he pushed it down with much effort. _Maybe Snape moved them to another room and they've lost track of time._

In his heart though, he knew something was wrong.

Finally, the dungeon came into view. He ran towards the room and flung the door open.

Harry was sitting on the floor, his head resting against the far wall, with a black eye forming. He looked like shit.

"What happened?" the red-head sputtered.

Harry slowly turned his head to stare at his best friend.

"Malfoy," he replied honestly, knowing Ron could figure out the rest on his own.

"That prick – I'll kill him," Ron growled.

Harry slowly shook his head. "He was just angry; it's not really his fault."

"But he beat you up," Ron cried in indignation.

Harry shook his head again. "I'm fine Ron. I was just sitting here thinking."

He stood up, wincing slightly, and walked towards the concerned red-head, throwing his arm around his best friends shoulder to steady himself.

"Let's just go back to the dorms and go to sleep. I'm tired."

He gave Ron a pleading look, silently begging him to drop the subject. Ron gave in, for now, but he was going to have a talk with his friend in the morning.

They walked off towards the dorms, Harry sleepily leaning on the red-head's shoulder. Even though Harry was tired, he knew he was going to get little sleep that night. Too many memories were clawing at his mind at the moment.

Endnote: Well, that's all. Hey, if anyone is still reading this story (which I'm highly doubting at the moment) and wishes to help me out, I need a beta reader. I have no one to edit anything I write and I'd like to have someone there who I can bounce ideas off of like a ping pong ball. The few people I associate with do not share my joy of fanfiction and I won't even tell my boyfriend because he'll laugh, so I have no one to conspire with.


	10. Riverwalk

Title: Un-fucking-titled

Author's Note: Wow, I got this out quick. If you really look closely, you can already see the beginnings of a plot forming. Ain't it great? I'm sorry, this chapter made me happy because I got to torture Harry a little bit more. I'm sorry that I suck at Hagrid's accent, but you can forgive me, can't you? Again I am lamenting the lack a reviews, but I guess it's okay. I am also lamenting the lack of a beta reader. ::hint hint::

Riverwalk

(Gryffindor Tower)

The next morning Harry crawled out of bed, his body feeling stiff and sore, reminding him of last nights little adventure with Malfoy. His sleep had been restless and twice he had awoken in a cold sweat before deciding that sleep just wasn't worth it.

Ron was just beginning to stir as morning approached, but he was struggling to cling to his much adored hobby of sleeping, which could only be rivaled by his love of eating. He failed.

"What time is it?" Ron asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"A little passed seven."

The red-head groaned, mumbling something about sleep and stupid parakeets. Harry snickered.

"I take it you had unsettling dreams as well?"

Ron nodded in response, still attempting to become one with the waking world.

Harry got up saying, "Well, since I'm up I might as well get started on the homework that I was unable to finish last night." He tried to keep the shudder from his voice

Ron groaned again as he thought about the homework that had been left uncompleted due to a certain bushy-haired distraction. Thankfully Ron seemed to have forgotten last night's incident and it did not appear as if the red-head would press for details.

He turned to Harry with a thoughtful look.

"You think Hermione will take pity on us both and let us copy?"

The green-eyed boy shrugged. "It can't hurt to ask."

(Care of Magical Creatures Lesson)

"Today we will be learnin' how ter detect an' remove chizpurfles from magical creatures," Hagrid announced with very little excitement in his voice. His usual flare when discussing magical creatures seemed to have diminished as the weeks wore on. It looked as if he had gotten very little sleep. Harry had been meaning to ask the man about it, but with school and everything, he kept getting sidetracked.

The class was relieved to find that their life would not be put in danger today. Although most hid their fear very well, it was common knowledge that all were terrified of the giant's lessons. None seemed to trust Hagrid's idea of safe and friendly.

Hagrid appeared slightly out of it and didn't notice that he had trailed off and stopped talking. Suddenly, he took in his surroundings with an angry scowl.

"Well," he cried. "What are yeh waitin' fer?"

They stared at him as if he had gone mental.

"You haven't given us any instructions, you dolt," Draco snarled.

Harry tensed at the sound of the blonde's voice.

"Oh…um," Hagrid struggled for words, flustered by his embarrassing situation. He had been certain that he had given the instructions. "Each of yeh is ter grab a box from o'er there," he waved his hand towards the side of the hut. "read the instructions in yer book abou' detectin' chizpurfles, an' then try ter remove them from the creature contained in yer box. When yer done, bring 'em ter me an' I'll give yeh yer grade."

The students nodded and cautiously moved towards the boxes that were stacked against the wall of the hut. Chizpurfles they could handle, but chizpurfles on an unknown creature made them wary.

Hagrid pulled Harry aside as he was passing.

"McGonagall has just informed me that yeh have detention wif me on Friday," he stated.

Harry nodded. He had almost forgotten about the detention he had received. It had seemed so long ago.

"Shame on yeh, walkin' aroun' the castle all alone at night." He shook his head in disappointment. "Who knows what coulda happened to yeh?"

Harry hung his head as he had done with Professor McGonagall. He didn't see why it was such a big idea. If Voldemort was able to get into the castle in general he didn't see how staying in his room would make any difference. One way or another, the man would find him. Despite his sentiments, he decided to go along and pretend to be remorseful.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I couldn't sleep, so I wasn't thinking. It won't happen again."

"It better not," the giant warned before walking back to oversee the proceedings.

Harry followed a goodly distance behind and got his own box from the stack.

(Friday Detention)

Harry neared Hagrid's hut, clutching his cloak tightly to his body as he moved. It was still November, but winter seemed to be making itself known early. The smell of winter hung in the air, but the soft drizzle made it quite clear that it was still not cold enough to snow. He kept looking up wondering why the small drops weren't frozen.

The fever that he had first noticed after Occlumency lessons had come and gone throughout the week, but now it was back to stay. He could feel it despite the cold air outside, but it was only a fever. It wasn't like he was dying, so he paid it no mind. He wasn't about to start whining anyway. Everyone would think he was just trying to get out of going to detention, especially after Fred and George's wonderful concoctions last year. Fever fudge would be the automatic assumption if he complained.

As he approached, three shapes could be distinguished through the haze of drizzle – Hagrid, Fang, and another boy.

As he got closer he realized who the boy was. Draco Malfoy.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he drew near enough for the blond to hear.

"Detention, what else?" he coldly replied.

They stared each other down for a moment, Draco occasionally glancing at Fang in disgust. The boy had not quite gotten over his hatred of the dog from his last detention.

Hagrid cleared his throat, drawing their attention to him. He scanned their faces before nodding to himself as if coming to a decision.

"I think yeh both are old enough ter handle yerselves out in the woods," he stated.

Draco narrowed his eyes mistrustfully. "What do you mean by that?"

"That I can trust yeh ter take care of yerselves and not get killed."

The blond struggled to contain his fear, which had only dimmed slightly through the years. He hated even going near the woods.

Harry shivered slightly.

"It'll be just like last time, only now we don' know what we're lookin' fer. Over the summer we had some lootin' goin' on an' since then I've bin havin' ter keep watch durin' the night ter make sure it don' happen again."

That answered Harry's question about the giant's lack of sleep.

"What kind of looting?" Draco squeaked.

"Oh nothin' serious," he replied nonchalantly. "Just small things like the garden bein' trampled, statues bein' knocked down, an' rocks bein' thrown through windows."

Draco looked marginally relieved. "And we won't have to go in too deep?"

"Only about as far as last time."

Draco paled. "As far as last time," he repeated. "As far as last time! Like hell I'm doing that. You're out of your bloody mind! Do you even remember what happened last time?"

Harry smiled at the hysterical boy, trying not to remember what had happened as well. "Stop whining, you pansy," he taunted.

"Pansy? Pansy!?" he screeched. "This coming from the boy who fainted because of the scary dementors."

Harry stiffened angrily, about to make a comment of his own before he was cut off.

"Boys," Hagrid interjected. "Calm down. It's not like I'm letting yeh go off by yerselves; Fang will be accompanyin' yeh."

"Oh great," the blond moaned. "Just bloody freaking wonderful. Now we get to have the drooling mutt from hell to tag along. What's he going to do, slobber the monsters to death? I think not."

Hagrid smirked at the boy's tirade. "Fine, if yeh don' want Fang, then he'll come wif me."

Draco snapped his mouth shut and shook his head.

"As I was sayin', It'll be just like last time. If yeh see somethin' suspicious shoot up green sparks an' if yeh get inter trouble send up red sparks."

They both nodded.

"Right then, let's go."

He led them past the edge of the forest, two lamps clutched high above his head in order to see better. A little way in they reached a fork in the path.

"Here's the path," he said pointing to the left and handing them a lamp. "You go that way an' I'll go this way. When yeh reach the end, come back and we'll meet in the middle."

Draco snatched the lamp from Hagrid's hand and stared down the path in horror.

"I'll be going then," Hagrid bellowed, leaving them alone.

Harry took the first step and Draco followed.

_Nothing too terribly bad happened last time. I should stop being a coward and start acting like a Malfoy. Look, Harry's not afraid and he's been in here tons of times. That must mean that this place is relatively safe._

Wet leaved brushed his face and he wiped the liquid away before it could trickle down his face. He glanced at the sky and noticed that the moon was just a tiny sliver in the sky.

"At least we don't have to worry about werewolves," Draco muttered.

Harry turned around and smirked, irritating the Slytherin with his calm demeanor. That was when Draco noticed that Harry was walking ahead of him and he was trotting behind like a whipped mutt. Malfoys never followed others.

Draco lengthened his stride, quickly passing up the smaller boy.

Harry shrugged and fell back; keeping pace with the blond, but staying far enough away that he wouldn't have to talk. It was awkward being so close to the boy that had just tortured him, especially because he couldn't seem to muster any malice. All that he felt was pity.

Harry shivered slightly as the drizzle gave way to rain. Each drop felt like ice when it made contact with his burning skin. Even still, it was a relief to feel the cooling drops land on his face. After all, he didn't like the uncomfortable feeling of being too hot; it was beginning to cloud his mind.

He trudged on following Malfoy in a fever induced haze, stumbling occasionally, but always preventing himself from falling. He could not stand the thought of falling in the mud and then being taunted by Malfoy for his clumsiness. The very idea was beyond embarrassing. That was all that kept him moving. He wanted to sit and take a break, catch his breath, and wait for the ground to stop slipping, but he wasn't going to be the one who stopped first. He had too much pride for that.

The sound of moving water could be heard in the distance and as they progressed. There seemed to be a very fast moving river nearby. Suddenly the path was hugging the edge of a very steep ravine. Draco looked down nervously, but he could barely detect the lamp-light reflecting off the surface of the turbulent water below.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of twigs snapping and a panicked yelp. He spun towards the source of the noise, watching in horror as Harry slid down the sides of the ravine and into the creek below.

End note: Oh no, what will happen to our poor little Harry? He's already got a fever!!! ::whines and complains about the rudeness of having a cliffhanger:: Oh wait, that's my fault and I already know what's going to happen. ::prances around in glee:: Maybe I'll tell you all if you review. You know how pissy I get when no one reviews. It totally throws off my already fragile creative vibe.


	11. Cold

Title: When the Snow Melts

Author's Note: I decided not to keep you waiting that long, since I absolutely detest cliffhangers with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. Aren't I nice? Actually, I'm just a review hungry whore, but be happy anyways. Also, I've come up with a title for this story and have it all planned out. The title is 'When the Snow Melts' and I've started posting the revised version under that title.

Also, I would like to thank murray the leprauchan with all my heart. Not only has she been a faithful reader who reviewed when she could, but she has also graciously decided to be my beta. ::hugs her:: I love you chicky, even though I've just barely met you.

Cold

(Continuing from the woods)

Without thinking, Draco jumped in after him, splashing into the icy cold water. A hand passed in front of his face and he latched onto it with all his might. He made for the shore, swimming one-handed, grabbing at a tree near the edge of the creek. The blond pulled them both onto the bank, using the tree for leverage, and lay there panting for breath, his blood rushing noisily in his ears. Harry lay beside him coughing and shivering violently against the cold.

"You idiot," the Slytherin gasped out, expecting a sharp and angry remark in response. When none came, he grew worried.

Draco rolled the boy over and the Gryffindor moaned in response before having another coughing fit. The boy hadn't been in the water long enough for hypothermia to set in or at least Draco didn't think he had.

"Are you okay?" he asked, attempting to mask his concern.

Harry nodded, trying to catch his breath without triggering another coughing fit.

"Can you make it back?"

The boy nodded again.

Draco scanned the bank, looking for a way back up. Deer had made a path up the side of the ravine and it looked good enough for the two of them to use.

"Well, come on," he urged, getting up and walking towards the path.

Harry stood up, wavering slightly, as he followed the blond up the steep ravine. He felt stupid, but was relieved that he no longer felt overly hot.

The path was slick with mud, but the roots sticking out of the side of the ravine provided ample handholds that kept Draco from slipping.

Harry latched on to the blonde's cloak as they made their way up so that he wouldn't fall down again. When they got to the top both boys stopped to catch their breath.

Draco glared at the shivering Gryffindor and continued walking, trying his best to ignore the boy. _I can't believe I just saved him. _He shuddered at the thought.

Harry trudged along, wondering if it was possible to shiver to death. The world seemed to be going in and out of focus and he could feel his pulse beating hard within his body. When the world started blurring around the edges he was vaguely concerned that there might be something wrong with his glasses. His face felt like it was on fire once again and his skin was prickling uncomfortably. Spots of darkness started dancing across his vision, but the blond failed to notice the boy's plight.

"Your idiocy caused me to ruin my favorite cloak," Draco scolded without turning around.

Something heavy fell against him and he spun around thinking the Gryffindor had smacked him with something. Suddenly, Harry was in his arms and he was the only thing keeping him standing. He dropped the boy in disgust and Harry landed face-first on the ground.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked in revulsion tinged with concern.

The dark-haired boy rolled over with a groan, but made no move to get up. Draco nudged him with his foot and got another moan, but that was it. Even from this distance he could feel the heat radiating off the smaller boy.

"You're burning up," he exclaimed.

The frightened blond shot up red sparks, panicking slightly.

"Don't you dare die on me, everyone will think I pushed you in the river if you're not there to tell them it was your own damn fault."

The boy smiled weakly and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. _At least he's able to think somewhat clearly._

"You're getting a kick out of this, aren't you?" Draco growled.

Harry chuckled weakly, but was soon coughing so hard the blond feared that he was about to hack up a lung or two.

The Slytherin sat down on the ground next to him, shivering slightly as a breeze passed through his damp clothes. When he was moving he had not felt the cold, but now with the wind blowing and the rain splashing onto his already frigid skin, he could feel the cold seeping deep into his bones. He pulled his cloak closer.

"Where is that stupid oaf? Maybe he didn't see the sparks," the Slytherin wondered aloud.

Each minute that passed caused the cold to soak in deeper. Soon Draco was shivering just as violently as Harry was. It didn't occur to him to use a drying spell. He was used to people thinking up these things for him.

"Fuck this shit," he cried. "I'll freeze to death before anyone shows up."

He glanced at the Gryffindor in disgust, knowing that he couldn't leave the boy there to die. He wrinkled his nose before swallowing his pride and picking the boy up, hoping that his friends wouldn't find out about this.

Harry was light, almost too light as Draco had noted the last time he had carried the boy in his arms. He could feel the warmth and the trembling from the small boy's muscles. _At least he'll keep me warm._

The dark-haired boy nodded off as Draco continued to walk, but the shivering continued even into his sleep. Rain speckled the boy's glasses, which had surprisingly remained on his face despite the nights occurrences, and washed the dirt from his face.

The drops of water on the Gryffindor's glasses began to annoy him. It was some strange bout of perfectionism that overtook his thoughts and Draco was disgusted with his sudden longing to take off the boy's glasses so that the rain drops wouldn't aggravate him. He fought the urge down violently.

_Maybe I should send up sparks again. It's a bad thing to be feeling anything other than hatred for this boy._

He tried to place the boy down in order to send up more sparks, but the raven-haired adolescent clung to him with a whimper. The blond paused in confusion, half stooped. No one had ever been so needy with him, most were silently relieved when he left. He eyed the mud in distaste, but realized he was already covered and sat down with the boy resting on his lap.

Rain began pouring down more fiercely, as Draco struggled to reach his wand without disturbing the sleeping Gryffindor. He managed to retrieve it and sent up red sparks again. He put his wand back in his robe and without thinking took off the boy's glasses and put them in the Gryffindor's robe pocket. It was unsettling to see how vulnerable the boy suddenly looked – how innocent, without his glasses.

Draco shook his head in disgust, picking the boy up as he stood, and continued down the path.

He heard labored breath from up ahead and suddenly the giant burst into view looking disheveled and highly alarmed.

Upon seeing the sleeping boy in Draco's arms the man paled.

"What happened? Why are yeh both wet?" he questioned.

"We both decided to take a little dip in the creek," the blond snapped in agitation.

Hagrid looked appalled. "Yeh what?"

Draco rolled his eyes in disgust. "You idiot," he growled. "Potter fell in the river and I went in after him. Now take him, he's making my arms sore."

Hagrid snapped into action, taking Harry into his arms, but the raven-haired boy would not relinquish his hold on Draco's cape.

"I guess yeh'll just have ter walk real close," Hagrid grumbled.

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust, mumbling something about stupid Gryffindors, but secretly he was glad for the warmth that the boy was giving off. He was freezing cold.

Endnote: ::sighs:: How cute...I just want to hug them both. It gives me warm fuzzy feelings. I hope you enjoy and review.


	12. Sick

Title: When the Snow Melts

Author's Note: ::sniffles slightly:: I'm so happy for the reviews. You just can't know how much it means to me. My roommate arrived to find me crying tears of happiness over it. Then, the world decided that it would play a big trick on me. Remember I said that I had come up with a new name for this story and was reposting the revised version of it under that name. Well, in my summary I used the word 'shit' without thinking and they removed it for violating the rules. They also took away my upload rights for a period of time. When I think of cuss words the word 'shit' just doesn't come to mind and they could have simply given me a warning first. Then, just to shit on my parade some more, I ended up having some guy trouble. This guy that I met at a party is completely and totally obsessed with me. It's kind of scary because I've barely known him and he seems to think we're soul mates or something. I tried telling him that I was already taken, but that didn't work. Oh well, so that's why this story is so late. I'm really sorry. One more thing, I never really gave the details of what happened during the chapter in which Draco tortured Harry, but some very big blanks are filled in this chapter.

Sick

Harry felt himself being lowered onto a soft surface, his mind clearing ever so slightly now that he was out of the foul weather.

"Here, help me get him into dry clothes," Madame Pomfrey ordered. She turned her gaze to Draco who was watching on, shivering under his wet clothes, and tossed him dry pair of pajamas. "I think you're quite capable of changing yourself."

Hagrid rolled the Gryffindor to his side and began tugging at the boy's soaked garments.

"I can't believe you just let them go off on their own into the Forbidden Forest," the woman scolded as she pushed Harry's arm into the pajamas. "I would have thought you would know better."

Draco snickered as the giant tried to explain.

"I thought they was old enough ter take care of themselves. How was I ter know that the boy would have a sudden bout of clumsiness."

The healer continued her scolding. "They're just boys; you should have known better."

Seeing Hagrid hang his head in shame, Harry began to feel guilty for the entire situation.

"It's s'not his fault," he mumbled. "I was already feeling ill and I didn't say anything."

Draco spun suddenly and glared at the boy. "You were already sick? You were already sick and you didn't do anything about it. I could have been killed just because you're stupid! I always knew that Gryffindors were idiots, but this," he shook his head in disbelief. "...this is something special."

"Draco is right, dear, you should have said something," Madame Pomfrey huffed with a disapproving look.

"I didn't think anyone would believe me," the Gryffindor explained, shivering slightly as he burrowed deeper into the covers that had been pulled over him once he was changed.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, her brow drawn together in confusion.

Harry gave an exasperated sigh before explaining. "Everyone would think I was just using one of Fred and George's skiving snack boxes to get out of detention."

"I would 'ave believed yeh," Hagrid challenged, an appalled look on his face.

"Maybe...," the raven-haired boy yawned sleepily. "...or maybe not."

Noticing the yawn, Madame Pomfrey announced that it was time for bed, giving Hagrid a look that clearly said 'leave or else.' Draco began walking toward the door also, but was stopped by the medi-witch's voice. "Oh and Mr. Malfoy, I would like you to stay the night, just in case. You can never be too sure."

He spun around in surprise, complaining loudly. "I'm perfectly fine and will be sleeping in my own bed, thank you very much."

"No you will not," she argued. "You were out in the cold, soaked to the bone, for much longer than I would have liked. Now get into bed and I don't want to hear any arguing."

Seeing that he was defeated, the blond huffed angrily, and walked to a bed in the corner, far away from Potter. He felt fine, just a little cold, but it wasn't just that that made him angry; he hated sleeping in a strange bed. _This is all Potter's fault – stupid clumsy Gryffindors._

"Now let's see what we can do about that fever," Madame Pomfrey stated, walking to a shelf that was full top to bottom with different potion vials.

She scanned the labels before picking out a small blue colored one. "This should work."

Harry watched her as she prepared the medicine he was to take and brought it to him.

"Now open up and no complaints. This should make you a little sleepy, but it will bring the fever down."

The liquid tingled a little and tasted slightly minty; he could feel it run through his system like ice, weighing down his eyelids. He fell asleep very soon after feeling considerably cooler.

(Later that night)

Draco lay awake, unable to fall asleep in a strange place without the bedding he was accustomed too. The only thing he was happy about was that he was warm and dry.

_I hope none of the Slytherins find out about me saving Potter. I'll never be able to live it down._

The hospital wing was dark and empty. It was a highly depressing place, but despite that sleep began tugging at his mind. He was simply far too exhausted to stay awake any more, no matter how uncomfortable he was. Before he knew it unconsciousness was swallowing him up.

Just as Draco was about to fall completely asleep, he was jolted awake by a sound. He didn't hear it now and was beginning to think that it was all the beginning of a dream. Suddenly, a sound caught his ears; he had heard it again – the sound of someone in distress.

Harry tossed fitfully in his bed.

"Please don't leave me here," he cried out. "Please, I'll be good, I promise. I'll be good if you don't shut the door. I'll even stay in here if you want, but please, please, please, don't shut the door."

He grabbed out at an invisible person, as Draco watched. It was fascinating in a horrible sort of way. _Wonder what all this is about?_

The raven-haired boy was crying, pleading and screaming with more panic as the dream progressed. Madame Pomfrey ran in immediately, a worried expression on her face as she attempted to wake the sleeping boy up.

"Harry, it's just a dream," she cooed. "Wake up, honey."

Slowly, he settled down and blinked around in confusion. A sheen of sweat shimmered in the moonlight streaming through the window, giving his skin a pale, clammy look. She gently placed her hand on his forehead and gasped.

"You're burning up!"

He gave her a wane smile. "I noticed."

Draco snorted at the boy's strange response. Madame Pomfrey's gaze settled on the blond.

"Since you're up, will you be a dear and fetch Professor Snape. This potion should have worked. The fact that it didn't worries me."

"I'm fine, really. It's just a little fever," Harry feebly protested. "You don't need to get Professor Snape."

Draco snickered, knowing that the boy would rather die than be saved by his most hated professor. It was a loosing battle though.

"When the matter concerns potions not working then it does require Professor Snape's presence."

The Gryffindor groaned in defeat.

Draco ran off to get Professor Snape, intending to tell the man about what had happened and then sneak off to his own dorm, where the beds were comfy and there were no stupid Gryffindor's to interrupt his sleep. The only thing that he was disappointed about was not seeing the showdown that would occur between Potter and Professor Snape.

(Much later)

Even with Professor Snape's potion expertise Harry's condition became gradually worse. The illness seemed to resist all potions. Nausea had set in and he could no longer force himself to eat. This lack of food was doing nothing to improve his health. Most of the time he slept to escape the pounding headache that was brought on by the fever.

After a few days, both Draco and Ron were brought in suffering from similar symptoms and just like Harry, potions had little to no lasting effect. Both boys were very unhappy about being stuck in a room together and spent most of the waking day glaring at each other, but neither had the energy to do anything more.

Harry tried to ignore their antics, regretting his decision to not tell Ron about what all had happened the day that Draco had captured him. He had initially decided to keep Draco's breakdown a secret, thinking that if the situation were reversed he wouldn't like people knowing that he had collapsed into tears in front of his enemy all the while struggling to pound him to death with little success on account of it being a half-hearted attempt.

Ron rolled over, breaking the glaring match he was having with the blond. He was just too tired for it. It felt like someone had cracked open his skull, stuck a blender in, and scrambled his brains around, and as of yesterday he had passed into the second stage of the illness – nausea.

Potions weren't working to relieve any of the symptoms and he could only hope that his own immune system would work through it on its own. If not, the only other option was muggle medicine and he had already gotten enough of a glimpse of that when his father and the healer had attempted stitches. Muggle medicine just seemed way too primitive to him. He'd rather just test his luck and try to work through this on his own.

At least none of the symptoms would catch him by surprise seeing as how Harry seemed to get everything first. _It must suck to be Harry right now, not knowing what else would happen, and not knowing how bad he would get._

Draco detested being in the room with his two most hated enemies. It was quite possibly to most annoying torture imaginable. With no one to glare at, Draco rolled over and closed his eyes. Sleepiness was dragging him down hard and no matter how much sleep he got he still felt tired. He wasn't accustomed to being sick like this for so long. The potions always worked.

Harry's head was throbbing violently as was most of his body. He could feel the beat of his heart everywhere. All he felt like doing was moaning and sleeping and he prayed that the need to throw-up would not arise because at the moment the bathroom just seemed so far away. He felt gross and dirty, but was too exhausted to do anything about it.

(Elsewhere)

Hermione was, for once in her life, too nervous to pay attention during class. She was worried about her boyfriend and her best friend. Their condition, although not currently life-threatening, didn't seem to be improving and what was worse was the fact that she was not allowed to see them because of the nature of the disease. Not only was it communicable, but it was also potion resistant. That was what most worried her. _What if this sickness is Voldemort's attempt to rid himself of Harry?_ She immediately dismissed that conclusion because of the fact that Malfoy was sick. Malfoy was a Deatheater's son and she doubted his father, even though the man was an ass, would put his son at risk like that.

The whole situation left her with a sick and ominous feeling and she missed the boys something fierce. If anything were to happen to them, she didn't know what she would do with herself. Maybe she could pretend to become ill and join the boys? It would definitely put herself at risk, but it was a risk she was willing to take to be near them. She just wanted to be there if things got worse. The only problem was that she knew it wouldn't work; Madame Pomfrey could spot a faker a mile away. Sometimes the woman would ignore it and let them play sick, but in this case Hermione doubted that the woman would; this illness was too serious to mess around with.

Class ended and, as she had done everyday since the pair got sick, she stopped off at the hospital wing to check on their conditions. Just because she couldn't see the boys didn't mean she couldn't find out how they were doing.

Madame Pomfrey came to the door when she heard the knock.

"Oh, Hermione, your friends are about the same, no better, but no worse. Although their fevers are going up ever so slightly as the days wear on, which worries me. I wish I could let you see them, it would definitely do them a lot of good, but I can't take that risk."

Hermione nodded understandingly. It was the same thing that she heard everyday and she wondered vaguely if the woman would lie to her if they did get worse.

"Can I at least sneak a peek at them?" she asked, wanting to verify the truth with her own eyes.

"Sure, honey."

Hermione glanced around the door, her eyes skimming quickly over Malfoy and landing on Ron. They smiled weakly at each other. She then moved her gaze to Harry. He was sound asleep and looking considerably paler than when she had last seen him. He moaned and rolled over, shoving off his covers as he turned. Madame Pomfrey rushed over and placed the covers back on.

"I know you're hot, dear, but you have to keep the covers on; the heat is good for you and will help you burn out the illness," she said soothingly.

"I dun like it," he groaned.

She placed her hand on his forehead, shaking her head regretfully as she pushed back his bangs.

"I know," she whispered softly.

Ron was staring at him in concern and even Malfoy looked slightly worried. Hermione didn't know if it was genuine concern over the boy's wellbeing or concern over how bad off he would eventually get. Either way, the four of them were not at all happy about Harry's condition.

Unknowingly, Hermione took a step towards her best friend.

"Where do you think you're going, girl?" Snape's cold voice caused her to freeze immediately and take a step back. "I thought so."

He bustled in, his cape unfurling as he brushed through the door. Ron glared daggers at the man.

"I've made another potion, hopefully this one will work," he proclaimed.

"Oh, good."

Madame Pomfrey took the offered vial and poured its contents into a spoon.

"Harry dear, sit up to take this medicine," Madame Pomfrey ordered softly, helping the boy up and holding the spoon to his mouth. Harry's nose wrinkled in disgust and he tried to pull away, but Madame Pomfrey had him firmly in her grip as she shoved the spoon into his mouth. He gagged and struggled against her, breaking free of her just in time to spill the contents of his stomach on the floor.

Hermione turned away in disgust as the medi-witch cast a quick cleansing spell. Ron continued to glare at the man, perhaps believing that he was intentionally poisoning them.

Snape hummed thoughtfully. "That didn't work."

"Oh, I didn't notice," Ron shot back tiredly.

Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes angrily. "Ronald Weasley," she hissed menacingly. "Don't you dare criticize the man that is trying to save your life."

He gave her a sullen expression and rolled over so that he wouldn't have to look at them anymore. Hermione sighed softly. _If he's healthy enough to continue this feud with Professor Snape then I can only take that as a sign that he's all right._

Professor Snape turned a cold look at the bushy-haired girl. "Don't you have class to go too?"

She nodded sharply, calling a quick goodbye to her friends as she ran out.

Endnote: Again, I'm sorry for the lateness of this posting, but I made it extra long to make up for it. Also, I hope the random POV shifts weren't at all confusing.

Review Responses:

murray the leprauchan: I know I don't have to thank you, but I'm thanking you anyway. It's the proper thing to do when someone has done something nice for you, even if they did it willingly.

Miss V: I'm glad you like the author's notes thingys. I just figured that most people skipped them, so it's refreshing to know that I'm not just wasting space.

pippy32388: Here's your update. Nice name; sounds slightly spasmodic. Maybe it's all the random numbers or something.

Fantasy101: Thanks for reviewing. It makes me happy just knowing that you're interested in the continuation of my fic.

black-ravenrose: ::shrugs:: I guess you were too late, but I'll keep you in mind if ever I need a beta. Also, if ever you need a beta, I'd be more than happy and willing to have the job. I love death fics.


	13. The Diagnosis

Title: When the Snow Melts

Author's Note: Well, here it is – the answer to your questions my lovely reviewers. Sorry about the delay, it seems college is keeping me busier than I thought it would, but I'll try to keep my update schedule reasonable. On an entirely different topic, Terry Goodkind's next book is coming out January 2005. I read the first chapter and was so upset over that incredibly brief teaser. ::whines:: I want him to write faster!!! I don't know if I can wait that long. Sorry, I got a little off topic there. Wrong book anyway. Thanks again for the wonderful beta job, murray the leprauchan.

The Diagnosis

"What do you think, Harry?" Ron asked, curiously.

"Think about what?" Harry replied tonelessly.

"Haven't you been listening to me?" the red-head whined.

Harry suddenly regretted shaking his head as the room swam alarmingly.

Ron let out an exasperated sigh. "Do you think they'll resort to muggle medicine if all else fails."

"Probably."

Harry had already gone over this with Ron a million times, but nothing he said could ease the boy's concern and relieve the boy's mistrust.

Ron shuddered. "What do you think is wrong with us?"

Draco finally lost his patience. "Will you shut up already and let us sleep?" he snapped.

Harry struggled to hide his immediate relief as Ron quieted suddenly and took up glaring at the blond once more. His throat felt so swollen that he was surprised he could still breathe. It was definitely a struggle. Strangely enough though he was having a good day, well a good day compared to the rest of the days he had been having, but he knew it wouldn't last.

Sometimes he would begin to feel slightly better only to plummet into a worse state within a few hours. It was as if the illness stepped back to take a break and regroup for a renewed attack on his system. The cloth on his forehead that was charmed to stay cool was beginning to feel uncomfortable as his fever tapered off and with a quick glance around he took it off and set it on the nightstand.

Draco groaned once and rolled over, facing Harry. If he was pale, it was impossible to tell due to his constant state of paleness, but there were telltale signs that gave away the boy's illness. He had a damp look about him and already he had a slightly pinched look.

His blond hair framed his face perfectly and Harry realized, for the first time, just how beautiful Malfoy really was. This was the first time the Gryffindor had ever seen the boy without a sour or angry look on his face. Instead, the blond looked vulnerable and lost, swimming in the bedding, so small and fragile.

_This illness is making me think crazy things. I can't believe I just though Malfoy was pretty. I really need to get better soon._

"Where did Madame Pomfrey run off to? I haven't seen her since early this morning. And now that I think about it, Professor Snape hasn't come around to cram any more potions down our throats today either," Ron noted, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

It was definitely an odd occurrence not to have the overly protective medi-witch hovering around them in an advanced state of worry.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Weren't you listening or were you too busy being stupid to hear? Madame Pomfrey went to St. Mungo's to consult another healer there."

"Oh," Ron replied, blushing in embarrassment.

"Honestly, Gryffindor's are so stupid sometimes. If it weren't for the teachers constantly babying you all, I doubt if you'd ever live to adulthood."

Ron chucked his pillow at the blond and then collapsed back into the covers, winded by the sudden movement.

The Slytherin wrinkled his nose in disgust as he rolled the pillow off his bed with the tip of his finger, attempting to make as little contact with it as possible.

The moment the pillow had been successfully removed, Madame Pomfrey glided into the room with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Well boys, I know what's wrong with you," she announced, happily.

They turned to her with hopeful expressions.

"I had a healer friend of mine with muggle medicine expertise examine the illness and he's concluded that it's a mutated strain of the strep throat virus or at least it bears some resemblance to the illness, although there are very marked differences. He believes the virus has adapted a resistance to the potions and that's why they had so little effect."

The boys looked at her skeptically.

"He gave me some antibio-somethings to give to you and told me that if you are unable to swallow them that I should bring you to him so that you can get shots," with a smile she held out a bottle full of large white pills.

Harry eased back into his pillow with a groan. He knew for a fact that he would be unable to swallow anything at the moment – he would have to get a shot. Ron and Malfoy glared mistrustfully at the pills.

"I'll take the pills," Ron squeaked. "I don't like the sound of 'a shot'."

Malfoy nodded in agreement.

"I wish I could take a pill," Harry stated with a sigh as Madame Pomfrey handed the boys their medicine.

"So we just swallow them?" the Slytherin asked with a look that clearly said, 'You've got to be kidding me.'

"Yes sir, and it would be best if you tried it with some water to wash it down," the medi-witch explained.

Ron was staring incredulously at the pill in his hand. With a gulp, he squawked, "Here goes nothing," and tossed it back, following it with a big chug of water. It didn't quite work as he planned and he choked rather loudly and spat the pill out.

Malfoy struggled to speak while snickering, "I'm not even going to try." He placed the pill on the nightstand. "I guess I'll have to get one of those 'shot' things."

"I had thought as much and had Headmaster Dumbledore prepare a portkey for the four of us. If you could come over here and place your hand on this pill bottle then we'll be on our way."

Harry shakily got to his feet, and all three moved to come in contact with the bottle. Once all three were touching it, he felt a familiar pull behind his navel and suddenly they were plopped into an unfamiliar room at St. Mungo's. A man was standing in the doorway, smiling knowingly at the three of them with a syringe already prepared. Harry mentally cringed and he felt Ron and Malfoy tense beside him.

"What exactly is a shot?" Ron asked in a quivery voice.

"Exactly what it sounds like," Harry replied.

The color immediately drained from Ron's face. "You know what, I think I'm cured. I'm feeling much better," the red-head declared in a meek and frightened voice.

"Me too," Draco admitted in an equally scared tone.

Unknowingly, the two huddled closer together, all previous animosity set aside for now. Harry wanted to laugh at the whole situation.

"I guess I'll go first," he volunteered, rolling up his sleeve as he walked towards the healer.

Ron and Malfoy stared at him in shock.

"I'm sorry," the healer said in an apologetic tone. "...but this sort of shot must be injected into fattier tissue."

It took a moment for Harry to understand what the healer had said, but when he did, he too went pale. Getting a shot in the arm was one thing, but a shot in the butt was both painful and humiliating.

"I'll be waiting in the other room," the healer called as he walked out.

Harry took a moment to compose himself before following. Once in the other room, he began to lower his pants.

"Oh, you don't need to lower them all the way," the man announced.

Harry relaxed slightly.

"Just get up on the table and I promise I'll be quick."

Harry complied with a small amount of trepidation, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. The shot was administered quickly and surprisingly it wasn't all that painful.

He walked back into the room where the two other boys were waiting.

"Don't worry; it doesn't hurt," he stated.

They both gave him a disbelieving look and refused to move.

"I think the weasel should go next," Draco cried.

"What?" Ron screeched.

Ron gave a Harry a pleading look and the Gryffindor felt obligated to come to his friends rescue, even if it was only to delay the inevitable. He knew exactly what to say to Malfoy to goad him into volunteering.

"Malfoy, stop being a pansy and go get your shot. Don't tell me you're afraid of a little needle?" Harry taunted.

Malfoy bristled angrily. "I'm not."

"Then prove it," the raven-haired boy challenged.

At first the blond seemed torn, a myriad of emotions played across his face, ending in a stubborn and falsely brave expression. "Fine," he snapped, holding his head high as he marched out with as much dignity as he could muster.

A few minutes later, he returned with a cocky smirk. "You're next, rat-face," he snarled.

Ron gulped, looking extremely panicked. "That's fine; I really think I'm feeling better on my own. I don't need that 'shot-thingy'. We can go home now," he babbled.

"Ron," Harry soothed. "It's not all that bad. I promise."

"It's not that I don't trust you Harry, it's just that I think I've gotten over this illness on my own," he explained.

Madame Pomfrey gently grabbed Ron by the arm. "If you don't go of your own freewill then I'm afraid I'll have to drag you there."

"No," he cried on the verge of hysterics. "I'm fine, honest. I don't need one of those 'shot-thingys'."

"Ron," she warned. "I really don't want to drag you in there and hold you down, but I will if I must."

"I won't let you," he screeched. "I'll fight you, I swear it. You're not forcing me to get some strange primitive muggle procedure done."

She took a firmer hold of the hysterical teen and dragged him out, kicking and screaming. They could hear him struggling loudly against them in the next room and finally they heard Madame Pomfrey cry 'Petrificus Totalus' and the noise was suddenly cut short.

Draco had a triumphant smile on his face. "Is he always such a wuss?"

"No, he's only like this about a couple things," Harry replied, struggling against a smile. "Spiders mostly."

It took a while, but they slowly began to feel better. Once, Madame Pomfrey was convinced that they were all right, she kicked them out of the infirmary with an order to eat plenty of food to recover the weight that they had lost. Ron remained slightly shaken up from his shot experience, but Hermione was quick to make him forget the entire ordeal.

Endnote: I'm sorry it's so short. I know you're probably thinking, "Strep throat?! How stupid and common!" Again, I'm sorry, but I'd like to tell you that it's possible. A few years ago I got sick real bad and they couldn't figure out what was wrong. I had jokingly informed the doctor that I had been abducted by aliens and that they had laid eggs in my tonsils. Fortunately, he didn't believe me and they did more extensive tests. In the end, it was some crazy mutated strain of strep throat. I came back to school and realized that I had spread it to many of my friends and after that I was known as the disease slut. Please stay with me, I promise things will get better.

Review Responses:

Pippy32388: I'm glad you're liking this and I hope you find this chapter entertaining. Beware the alien tonsils.

Black-ravenrose: I'm sorry, I don't have msn messenger, nor AIM. I don't have the time for it. ::sighs:: And I use to be on AIM 24/7, but now I don't even think this computer has AIM. Life and reality sucks major ass.

MishapsErrors: Did I post in time to save the chocolate? I love chocolate too much to have it banned. Stupid penguins. ::looks around in suspicious worry:: I mean, nice lovely penguins. They're so cute with their....um...tuxedos? Like little mob bosses. Long live the penguins, long live chocolate.


	14. Abandonment Cuts Like a Knife

Title: When the Snow Melts

Author's Note: This is a slightly longer than usual update, just to make the delay in posting up to you. Now the story is really picking up and I have two ways I can end it, but I'm not telling you. Mwuahaha. You'll just have to stick with me until the end. To tell you the truth, I have no idea where this story is going during this section. I know the beginning and I know the end, but all the space in between are just a blur. The muses have left me to figure it out on my own. Mmmm....ramen.

Abandonment Cuts Like a Knife

(Hogwarts, the day before break)

Ron and Hermione were going home for the holidays. In the end, Harry decided that he'd just stay at the Leaky Cauldron. He was beginning to regret telling Dumbledore that he had other plans for Christmas break. Mourning with Lupin didn't seem so bad now, not when compared to the utter loneliness that awaited him this Christmas.

All around children were expectantly counting down the days until they could return to their families. It made Harry jealous in a way. He couldn't have that feeling and all chance of him ever having that feeling had been obliterated by his own stupidity. It made the holidays all the more unbearable. Last Christmas had been spent with his Godfather, but never again would there be Christmas with quite so much joy and it was all his fault.

(Elsewhere)

Winter break was drawing near and with its impending arrival Draco's mood spiraled pitifully into the depths of despair. Christmas meant watching his parents fawn on Faren with the utmost adoration; it was sickening. Then, once the fawning had become annoying to the point that even Faren could no longer handle it, his parents would change the pace by chastising Draco in the most severe of fashions. Christmas day would bring the family feast and afterwards he would be forced to listen to his mother until the wee hours of the morning. She would go on and on about how fat, how ugly, how obnoxious, how crass, how whatever-else-could-be-wrong-with-a-person until she was either extremely winded or until she ran out of people to ridicule. Before he could escape back to school, he would of course have to be yelled at once again. It was the typical don't-do-drugs-don't-talk-to-strangers speech except it was more along the lines of 'Don't allow mudbloods to do better than you, don't make friends with them, and most of all practice being evil.'

That was how Christmas always went and that was why Christmas was the worst holiday ever invented.

(Hogwarts, the next day)

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Ron asked as he dragged his things to the car. His father, at his mother's request, had demanded that the Ministry provide him with a car to pick up his children and Cornelius Fudge had agreed. The Minister of Magic was still suffering from the humiliation of being wrong and was easily bullied into anything these days.

"No, I'm fine. I have a lot of stuff to do anyway and I'll only get distracted." Harry replied.

"All right then, I'll see you after the holidays." Ron smiled sadly at his best friend, put an arm around Hermione shoulders, and waved goodbye with his free hand.

"We'll miss you," Hermione stated sadly.

"Me too."

Once the hugging and goodbyes were done, the entire Weasley clan plus Hermione had gotten into the car and drove off.

As soon as they were gone, Harry ran up to his room, chucked all his belongings into his trunk, and ran to catch the train. He just barely made it.

Christmas Holidays had finally arrived and much to his dismay the only place he could find to stay at was The Leaky Cauldron. Of course he had been asked to stay with the Weasley's, but the first invite had been more of an afterthought once Ron had asked Hermione to stay with him. It was clear to Harry that his invite had not been in the original plan, so he declined in order to allow his two best friends to have some alone time.

The train was nearly empty, most parents were either so eager to see their children or so scared of a Death Eater attack on the train that they picked them up directly from Hogwarts. The majority of the students still on the train were Slytherin.

Harry dragged his belongings down the aisle and entered the first empty looking compartment. Unbeknownst to Harry, said compartment was also the chosen brooding ground for a certain moody blonde.

Draco glared at the person who dared to enter his compartment only to see the back of a raven-haired head. He cleared his throat rather loudly to attract the boy's attention.

Upon hearing the noise, Harry spun around in surprise. His eyes met angry gray ones and he stumbled backwards, landing unceremoniously unto the seat. The glaring continued. Harry's immediate reaction was to find another seat, but the more he thought about it the more he decided to be evil. He had every right to sit wherever he damn well wanted too and so, just to spite the blonde, he rearranged his belongings, sat down, pulled out a book, and read, completely ignoring the other blonde's glare.

Draco eventually gave up, angrily directing his attention to the fields rolling by outside and making an obvious display of ignoring the other boy.

(The Train Station)

As the train stopped, Draco gathered his things and exited the compartment without speaking a word to Harry. Harry wished he wouldn't go back, he knew that nothing good would come of the blond returning home to his abusive father, but he was too scared to say anything.

Cursing himself mentally, he too gathered his things, exited the train, and disappeared into the crowd. Once he had gotten to a remote enough part of town, he held up his wand and signaled the Knight Bus.

"Where too?" the man asked without looking.

"The Leaky Cauldron."

"Righ' then, 'old on" the driver announced, as the bus shot forward and Harry quickly dove for a seat.

Within moments the bus arrived at its destination.

"'ere we are, the Leaky Cauldron."

With a deep sigh, Harry exited the Knight Bus and walked into the hell-hole that he would be staying at for the remainder of Christmas break.

(Train Station)

Draco's father had been waiting impatiently for his son when he got off the train. They stared at each other for a long moment, neither speaking, both perhaps remembering their last encounter. Abruptly, Lucius turned and began walking; Draco hurried to catch up, dragging his belonging behind as they walked to the car.

The ride home was also filled with an uneasy silence. Every now and then, Lucius would turn to give his son a pained expression and Draco would pretend not to notice.

After what seemed an eternity, they arrived home. At the manor his mother, brother, and grandmother were waiting outside to see him. Their greeting was much more exuberant than the one at the train station.

"Oh Draco dear, it's been ages since I saw you last. I swear you must have grown at least two inches," his grandmother exclaimed as she threw her arms around him.

"Three," he grumbled into the woman's shoulder.

She grasped his shoulders and held him at arm's length, smiling happily. "That's wonderful, I was worried that you might have inherited your mother's shortness, but it appears as if you just might match your father in height after all."

Narcissa's noise wrinkled up in detestation. She hated her mother-in-law. _Compared to other women I am not that short at all. Bitter old woman, you're just upset that Luscious defied you and chose me over that Parkinson girl._

Draco rolled his eyes, knowing he'd be hearing his mother bitch about his grandmother's comment until his ears hurt. He shivered slightly with the cold and his mother was quick to notice.

"Let's get you inside, dear. Can't have you getting sick on us again," his mother cooed, finally retrieving her son from the hands of her mother-in-law.

(Diagon Alley)

Christmas break wasn't as bad as he had anticipated. Most of his time was spent exploring Diagon Alley, trying to find the perfect gifts for all of his friends.

There was a jewelry store that he passed everyday on his way home. It was a nice looking place with a large window out front to display some of their more beautiful items. He still hadn't bought anything for Hermione, so he went in.

As he had expected, most of the things were much too pricey, but thankfully, there was some jewelry in the back that was on sale. Unfortunately, none of it screamed Hermione. He wanted something nice and elegant, but not too showy and everything on sale was clunky and overly shiny. He'd have to move up to the more expensive items.

Finally, he found a display case that contained just what he was looking for – it was a small silver butterfly with diamond encrusted wings. Despite all the diamonds, it didn't come off as ostentatious, but elegant; exactly what he was looking for.

Another item in the same display case caught his attention – a silver dragon, curled tightly around a long sword, it's wings spread wide. _This would look great on Draco, too bad he's not here to get it._ He felt suddenly very bad. _He's probably too busy getting kicked around by his father._

(Malfoy Manor)

The Malfoy's were sitting down to enjoy a nice, elaborate family dinner. Narcissa had set everything up perfectly in order to impress her mother-in-law during her stay. The candles were lit, the silverware was gleaming, and the house-elves were nearly having a panic attack in their attempt to make all the food to the Lady of the House's exacting standards.

Draco's grandmother glanced around at the settings with an unimpressed expression on her face.

"How quaint," she stated.

Narcissa growled softly at the woman.

"So Draco, how are your studies?" his grandmother questioned.

He looked at his father first before replying. "Well enough."

"Come now, don't be modest. Are you making top scores in all your classes like your father did?"

"No," he admitted, hoping she wouldn't ask why.

"That's too bad, but it's hardly your fault, what with the horrendous tutelage you got as a child I'm surprised you can even tie you shoes correctly," she looked pointedly at Narcissa as she said this. Narcissa bristled visibly and struggled not to claw the woman's eyes out. _I will not hurt Lucius' mother. I will not hurt Lucius' mother. I will not hurt Lucius' mother. Think of the money and everything will be fine._

"At least you're not making the same mistakes with Faren," she continued. "It would be a pity to have another son go to waste. I suppose it's too late to fix this one though."

Draco hung his head in shame and humiliation. No one liked his grandmother, but they put up with her in hopes that when she finally kicked the bucket, she would leave lots of money for them. She knew that was the only reason anyone tolerated her, so she had long ago decided to make it hell for anyone after the family fortune. It was how she kept herself entertained in her old age.

"I knew you should have gotten rid of him before you grew too attached, but you chose not to listen. Oh well, but after all, it's none of my business how you choose to run this family."

Draco struggled to keep his mouth shut as she rambled on, crushing happiness at every moment.

"Draco my dear," the demon called. "I heard the most curious thing a couple of days ago. Someone told me that you saved Potter's life. I laughed at them, but they seemed quite sure of what they were saying."

Draco's breath caught as he froze like a deer in the headlights of an SUV. Lucius' piercing gray eyes turned on his sons accusingly.

"Is this true?" he demanded coldly.

Draco nodded looking very contrite.

"Why, may I ask, did you feel the need to save your enemies life?"

Draco shook under the man's glare. "I...I wasn't thinking. It was a spur of the moment decision. He fell in the creek and I jumped in after him. If I hadn't, people would think that I pushed him in."

Some of the tension left Lucius' body. "I guess that's forgivable."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

Faren, who had been silent this whole time smiled at the adults.

"I wouldn't have saved him," he announced maliciously. "I would have let him die and then I would have brought his dead body to The Dark Lord. After that, it wouldn't matter what anyone thought. I would be The Dark Lord's most trusted subordinate and then I could kill anyone I wanted too."

Draco gaped at his younger brother. It wasn't right for a ten year old to be this evil. It was just sick.

Lucius smiled at his son. "Even though that was a good idea, you'd have to be willing to take the chance that you could be a hunted man for the rest of your life. Most would take that risk, but I on the other hand, have enough respect for Dumbledore's powers to know what I would be getting myself into. I think if I was still a child, I wouldn't take that risk, so in this case, Draco may have made the right choice."

Faren glared as his brother began to smile and snorted. "Well I'm not afraid of Dumbledore like Draco is. If I ever got in a fight with him I'd just use crucio, and when I was done making him suffer, then I'd kill him."

Everyone smiled and laughed at the boy's naïve bravery except Draco.

"You can barely perform the Cruciatus Curse," Draco snarled.

Faren let out a haughty laugh. "Obviously mother neglected to inform you of the fact that I have already mastered that curse. I guess she didn't want you to have your feelings hurt, seeing as how you can barely do the curse yourself."

"You precocious little brat," Draco snapped. "I know perfectly well how to use the Cruciatus Curse. In fact, I've used it on the Gryffindor Golden Boy himself."

An immediate silence swept through the room.

"You what?" Lucius questioned coldly.

Draco paled at the furious look on his father's face.

"I used crucio on Potter. I thought you'd be happy."

"You idiot. What would have happened if he had told someone? Do you realize how much trouble you could have been in? Do you realize how much trouble you could have caused me? Honestly, do you just not think sometimes? I've tried to be patient with you; I've tried everything I could to help you, but nothing I do seems to work. This is it, I can't take it anymore. Get out of this house now, I never want to see you again. You are no son of mine."

"Father," Draco whimpered. "Please, you don't understand."

"No excuses, I'm sick and tired of excuses. Get out!"

Lucius' face was a mask of unadulterated rage. He was deadly serious when he told the boy to leave, it was written as plain as day on the man's face.

Draco was in such a state of shock that he couldn't move. His father always lost his temper, but after a few rounds of the Cruciatus Curse, he was always much better. But this time, this time he wasn't going to get better. This time Draco had not only risked his own life and honor, but the family's livelihood as well. There was no forgiving for having crossed this line.

"But father, I did it for you. I wanted to make you happy," he pleaded.

With every word spoken the man only became more irate. Finally, he could stand to look at his son no more. He stood up from the table with a glare that could kill, grabbed Draco roughly by the arms, yanked him out of his seat and marched him down the hall. Once they were standing outside of Draco's room, he shoved the boy in.

"Grab as much of your belongings as you can carry and get out," he snarled, turning on heel and marching back down the hall. "If you are still here by the time dinner is finished, I'll kill you."

Draco was struck dumb, his father's words echoing in his head. _I'll kill you_. Tears stung at his eyes. He hurriedly wiped them away and began gathering his things even though he had no idea of where he would go.

Once all his things were together, he crept out of the house, afraid to even make a sound.

(Diagon Alley)

Harry was prowling the streets of Diagon Alley as usual. He had seen everything a million times and was becoming quite bored. A sneeze from a dark alley attracted his attention. Curious, he entered the alley to find the source of the mysterious sneeze. No sane person would hide in a cold alley in the middle of winter.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed a shadowed figure huddled up in the corner, shivering. Immediate concern over-powered him.

"Are you all right?" he asked, approaching the mysterious person.

Familiar grey eyes met his, forcing him to take a sharp intake of breath. Suddenly, the eyes turned away.

"Draco?"

"Yeah," the miserable looking blond snarled angrily.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was full of concern.

The boy glared at him coldly. "I've been disowned."

Harry was so taken aback he didn't know what to say or do. It didn't make sense that Draco was alone, poor, and unloved, even though most had wished it upon him from day one, but wishing and seeing were two different things.

Even though Ron would murder him, he couldn't leave the boy out here like this.

"Well, that blows," he stated awkwardly. "If you want, I have a room at the Leaky Cauldron and I'd be willing to share my bed with you; it's quite large."

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously. "I don't need your charity, Potter."

He let out an exasperated sigh, negotiating with the hardheaded blond was going to be difficult at best.

"It's not charity," the Gryffindor explained. "Let's just say I'm paying back a debt; you did save my life after all, as much as it pains me to admit that," he added with a decidedly unhappy look which quickly turned into a playful smirk. "Because of that, I can't let my hero die of cold."

The blond growled unhappily. "Don't call me that."

"Call you what?" Harry asked in a pseudo-innocent tone.

"Hero," he snapped. "It sounds too gay."

"And?" the raven-haired boy questioned with a cocky lift of the voice. He was met with a very long and drawn-out appalled silence as the wheels in Draco's head turned.

"Now I'm definitely not sharing a bed with you," the Slytherin grumbled.

Harry just barely held back a laugh at the boy's sullen expression. "Fine, but can I at least offer my floor? Well technically it's the Leaky Cauldron's floor, but whatever, I'm paying for it so I can do whatever I want with it."

Draco wanted to be left alone, but he didn't want to freeze to death. Just as he was about to agree, a sudden thought occurred to him, his brow crinkled in confusion.

"I don't mean to be nosy, but why are you staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

Harry shrugged as he responded. "I have nowhere else to stay."

Draco's confusion only grew worse. It didn't make sense that the person whom everyone loved the most had nowhere to stay for the holidays.

"Surely you could have stayed at Hogwarts."

Harry's mood turned dark. "If I had I would have spent the entire time in mourning with Lupin," he answered in a tonelessly cold voice.

"Mourning?" Draco stated in confusion. "Mourning over wha...oh, Black, your Godfather. I heard about that."

Harry gave a solemn nod.

"Then why didn't you go home instead?"

Draco noted that Harry's mood turned even darker and he immediately regretted having asked anything. _Maybe his family isn't happy about him not living up to his name either. Maybe we're the same without even realizing it._

"They don't want me there." His voice was so neutral it was chilling.

"Oh," Draco replied dumbly, shivering both from Harry's toneless voice and from the cold. He felt a sneeze coming on and struggled against it to no avail.

The noise snapped Harry out of his somber mood. He smiled half-heartedly.

"Let's both deal with the fact that were not wanted and get ourselves inside before we freeze to death," the raven-haired boy said jokingly, but his voice held a deep undertone of hidden hurt that managed to seep into his words despite the mask of joviality.

Seeing this, Draco decided not to argue. Plus he had no intention of sitting around in a dark alley, freezing his arse off, and feeling sorry for himself. He could feel sorry for himself in front of a nice roaring fire just as easily.

Together, they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, both looking discontent.

Endnote: I'm so sorry for the late update. I've been sick and had tests and had other stuff to do and right now I'm supposed to be studying for math, but I'm not. I'm going to fail math. ::cries and whines:: And then my grandparents won't pay for college anymore. ::cries some more:: I hate math and it's not even funny that despite the fact that I understand how to do it, I'm still making idiotic mistakes. I'm just careless. ::whines and cries and whimpers:: Bye bye, math is going to eat me now.

Review Responses:

black-ravenrose: ::shrugs:: I was just going on what I know. Plus, I thought it would be kind of interesting to have them struck down with an evil mutated muggle disease. Then again, I long ago figured out that my idea of interesting didn't always follow the same path as everyone else's; mine was in an entirely different dimension in fact.

MishapsError: Meep, penguin porn? I'm extremely frightened for everyone else's sanity. Although it wouldn't affect me much considering I no longer have a TV because I can't afford one right now. ::shrugs:: But I guess I'll have to save their sanity anyway.

Murray _the_ Leprachaun: I loved the lime you did for me in your story. Hey, if anyone reads these review responses then I demand that you all go see murray the leprechaun's story 'Harry Potter and the Anime Convention' because if you don't, I'll have to put my demands in the Author's Note instead.


	15. Christmas

Title: When the Snow Melts

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter. I got this sucker out fast, didn't I? Well, it's the weekend and I had a choice between writing, finishing my site, or studying. This was the lesser of the three evils. No no, I'm not saying it's evil. I'm just saying that I'm eager to get to the end because I know what happens there. By the way, my website is coming along nicely. There are lots of sections that aren't done, but I promise that they will be done and I will make a big announcement when it is. Also, my livejournal is filling up quite nicely. In fact, I've just gotten my first comments there. It makes me feel a little fuzzy and a little happy.

Christmas

(The Leaky Cauldron)

Christmas was here at last. It was odd for Harry not be awoken quite abruptly to the sounds of Ron excitedly bouncing on his bed and announcing that there were presents to be opened. He rolled over with a moan before he remembered that someone else was in his bed.

Draco was lying on his back, eyes wide-open, staring desolately at the ceiling. With a sigh, Harry slowly got up to get dressed, but before he was able to make it across the bed, he was met head-on with a hyperactive ball of feathers.

Pig righted himself, proudly puffing out his chest, as he presented his deliveries. A sad looking Errol was next to come careening through the wind. He hit the floor, flipped tail over head a few times, then crashed rather loudly into the wall, package still attached.

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed almost until there were tears in his eyes. Finally Pig became impatient, squawking loudly in order to get Harry's attention.

"All right, all right," he cried, untying the packages from both birds.

They remained, waiting for the treat that they were obligated to get. He smiled at them and went to get some owl treats.

They waited impatiently, as he held them above their heads. "I'll only give you these if you don't let Ron and the others know I'm here."

Both nodded their head in acceptance and dove for the treat that was thrown at them. After a long enough rest, the owls returned home, leaving the room to its relative peace and quiet.

Harry turned to Draco with a grin.

"I'mI was surprised that they were able to find me."

Draco didn't respond; he lay there with a decidedly neglected look on his face. No owls had come swooping in with packages for him.

Harry, guessing what was wrong, ran to his trunk and pulled out a small package.

"I bought you this." Smiling, he held out the package for Draco to take. "Happy Christmas."

"Why?" Draco asked, his brow crinkled in confusion as he stared at the offered package.

Harry shrugged. "I thought it was so beautiful that it belonged to you; I couldn't stand the thought of someone else wearing it."

His heart fluttered happily as he took the package and began opening it. Inside was an elegant silver dragon, wings spread wide, guarding a diamond encrusted sword.

"When did you get this?" he asked, knowing that Harry had been with him the entire time.

"I got it before I found you," the raven-haired boy replied nervously. "Do you like it?"

The blond nodded, staring down at it in awe. "It's beautiful."

"Put it on," Harry encouraged. "I want to see if it's as pretty on you as I imagined it would be."

Slowly, the blond picked it up, undid the clasp, and put it on. It hung at the perfect length, so that the dragon was resting directly above his sternum.

Harry took the boy by the shoulders and guided him to a mirror, whispering in his ear, "Now do you see why I had to buy it?"."

Draco nodded dumbly, making Harry smile warmly before returning to his own presents.

"But I didn't get you anything," Draco complained.

"Seeing you wearing that is gift enough," the raven-haired boy replied with a smirk.

The gifts Harry got from his friends were special in their own way, but mostly because of the thought that was put into them.

Fred and George had given him a purse filled with coins and pranks, and a note attached.

_Dear Harry,_

_This is some of the money that we've made this year. We feel obligated to let you in on some of the profits seeing as how none of this would have been possible without your help. We don't want to hear any complaints either; just take the money and smile._

_Your friends,_

_Fred and George_

Ron had given him more candy than he could possibly eat in a year. He couldn't help but smile when he noticed that some of the candy wrappers were empty.

He got the usual sweater from Mrs. Weasley, which he immediately began to put on until Draco stopped him with a decidedly disgusted look on his face.

"You're not planning on wearing that _thing_?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, why?" the Gryffindor replied innocently.

"I won't talk to you if you wear it," he warned.

The raven-haired boy let out a warm infectious laugh, putting the sweater on anyway.

"I have to wear it – it's tradition."

"How is wearing anand ugly..._sweater_...tradition?"

"Years ago on Christmas day, Mrs. Weasley gave me a sweater similar to this one. It was the first time someone ever considered me family. I wear it to thank her for that," he explained.

Draco rolled his eyes. "A simple thank you note would have worked just as well."

Harry shrugged and moved on to his next presents.

Hermione had given him a 'Guide to Good Studying Skills' with a note saying that 'It will help you make good scores on next years N.E.W.T.S.'

He was acutely aware of the lack of his usual mystery gift, which was a sudden reminder of his godfather's absence. His mood plummeted.

"Draco, will you be fine by yourself? I have something I need to do."

"Yeah, sure," the blond replied in a disappointed tone, not wanting to be left alone, but too shy to say it aloud.

Harry quickly put on a pair of clean clothes, until he noticed the neglected look on the Slytherin's face.

"You can come if you want? I've just got to give Sirius his present."

Draco nodded enthusiastically and got dressed as well.

Together they left, Sirius' gifts tightly clasped in Harry's hands.

(The Cemetery)

Lupin was standing at his best friend's grave, a sad look on his worn face.

"I got you some flowers even though I know how much you hate impractical gifts. It's been hard without you here, hard for all of us. For a long time I was pissed about you being so stupid as to get yourself killed, but I know I was just using that anger so that it wouldn't hurt so much."

Tears inched down his face as he spoke.

"I'm so alone right now; more alone than I've ever been before. First James and Lily, and now you; it hurts so much. The only thing I can really do right now is try to kill the bastard that's responsible for all of this. That's the only thing keeping me going."

He took a deep sigh. "Well, Happy Christmas. Once I've gotten my revenge I'll be joining you."

He turned and walked off, not looking up as two people walk passed him.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when Lupin failed to realize he was there. The man was too caught up in his own sorrow to notice anything else.

Draco hung back a few feet to allow Harry to have his privacy.

"Hey Sirius, I brought someone to see you," he said, indicating Draco with a smile. "Never thought we'd end up being friends, but I guess things change and things don't always work out like you imagined they would. After all, I imagined that you would be there forever and you're not."

Unbidden tears crept down his face as he knelt. With his bare hands he dug out enough dirt to put the plant he had brought in. It was a tea tree and it had small flowers that looked like miniature rosebuds. The entire thing looked antique and beautiful. Once he was done, he leaned a small note against the plant.

"I don't really know what to say except that I miss you and that I'm sorry I got you into this mess. I'm really afraid right now that someone else might get hurt because of me and I don't want that to happen. I have to stop Voldemort, I'm destined too, and I want too."

Draco came up from behind and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders.

"Listen Sirius, I didn't know you but you should be glad that all these good people love you," the blond said with a solemn air. "I can only hope that people are this sad for me if I were to die."

Harry smiled up at the blond, tears trailing down his face.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Are you done?"

"Yeah, I think I am."

He turned to face the grave on last time. "Goodbye Sirius. I miss you."

Endnote: I know it's kind of short, but you can't complain since it was a quick update. The next chapter will have more in it, I promise. There might also be more Harry Draco bonding. Yay for male bonding. ::snickers:: Whenever I think 'male bonding', I always think 'male bondage'. Ooh, kinky. Yeah, I'm going to go before my mind goes off into dirty tangents.

Review Responses:

MishapsErrors: Here you go. Everything will be all right I promise. ::pats you on the back:: Eventually we will have new oppressors and even though their oppression will not be as creative as the penguins, it will still be oppression. Things will work out, you'll see.

black-ravenrose: Sorry, I wasn't implying anything like that. Actually, I thought I was being funny or smart or something. ::snickers:: I promise to have Harry Draco sharing a bed fun in the next chapter. The Christmas chapter just kind of bit me in the ass.

Murray _the _LeprechaunLeprachaun: Here you go, the next chapter. Plus when I get to the fork in the story, I'll need your help in deciding which path they shall take. The fate of Harry and Draco will eventually depend on you.

Morena Evensong: That would be fucking hilarious. I just got a picture of ten-year-old Faren, pint-size dictator, doing the Hitler salute thingy. But hell, if he grows up to be as sexy as Draco, he can order me around all he wants. My wish is his fucking command. Jesus I'm a pedophile. I meant older Faren, not younger Faren. You believe me, don't you? I'm not a pedophile. Shit, who am I kidding? I think Daniel Radcliffe is hot and he's just a baby compared to me. ::runs off screaming and bashing her head into random objects::


	16. The Tears That Were Shed Part One

Title: When the Snow Melts

Author's Note: Sorry about the lateness of my next post; I've been drinking a lot lately. Don't anyone here yell at me for it either because I can drink all I damn well want. It was my hatchie-day and I turned 19.

The Tears That Were Shed Part One

There was a deep and empty feeling in his stomach that prevented him from falling asleep, but he continued to pretend anyway. He didn't want to wake the tired blond with his pathetic tossing and turning. The other boy was doing enough of it for the both of them and twice he had accidentally kicked Harry during his fitful sleep.

It was strange because Harry had always imagined that Draco would be a gentle, almost angelic sleeper. It was also a mystery to Harry as to what the blond could be dreaming about. What kind of dream could make a person toss around so much? And what was...

He was walking down a hall – it was horrifyingly familiar. Fog began creeping up from out of nowhere, twirling about in billows as he walked through it. Somehow, he had fallen asleep without meaning too.

He continued walking even though he knew what he would find at the end of the hall. His mind was screaming for him to turn back, but his feet weren't responding, nothing was responding.

This was the same dream he had been having since summer.

Sirius was curled up at the end of the hall with his knees pulled up to his chest. He had the same look about him as he had soon after escaping from Azkaban – only worse; his eyes were more vacant now, almost lacking in every emotion except sorrow.

Slowly, his eyes darted up to where Harry was towering over him. The lights flickered overhead and Sirius was up in an instant, his hands firmly clasped around the boy's neck.

"This is all your fault. It's always your fault. You know, the only reason your parents were killed by Voldemort was because they protected you. They really shouldn't have though; looking at you now I can tell that it wasn't worth it. I can't believe that anyone thought you were special. You're just a foolish boy with luck, but one day there will be no one there to die for you or protect you and that's when you will meet the very messy end that is in store for you."

Harry didn't fight back. Why should he fight against something he so obviously deserved? He wasn't really special at all. His past escapes from Voldemort had been purely through luck or the sacrifice of others. In the end, it was clear to see that his existence was cursed.

"Go ahead and kill me," Harry croaked out brokenly.

"Oh, I will," Sirius snarled back. "I will so that I may save others from your wretched presence. Wouldn't want your new friend to end up hurt too?"

Sirius tightened his hold, fully closing off air from entering his lungs. His eyes began glistening with unshed tears of pain. On instinct he struggled to swallow or breath, but he couldn't, not with the crushing force that was pushing his throat in on itself. His mouth watered in vain. It seemed as if an eternity had passed before darkness crept across his line of sight and yet still he was dimly aware of the pain that was being inflicted upon him even though it was no match for the pain he felt inside.

He shot up from bed, gasping for air, startling the blond into consciousness.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you, Potter?" the blond snarled, instinctively being mean because of the rather rude awakening. Quickly, he gathered his thoughts and shoved down his inner asshole.

"Are you all right?"

Harry took a minute to catch his breath and even longer to collect his scattered thoughts. The longer he was awake the more his memories of the dream faded, leaving only the thoughts they invoked as comfort; if you could call feeling like an utter waste of existence comfort.

"I'm fine," he mumbled after a long pause. "Just a bad dream; I get them sometimes."

"What about?"

The blond was curious and concerned. Harry had a rather pale and frightened look about him. His eyes easily betrayed his dark and tumultuous thoughts. Whatever the dream had been, it had not been any normal kind of nightmare.

"Mostly death," Harry replied without thinking.

"Death? What do you mean by death?"

"Just people I know dying," he muttered darkly. "Can we not talk about this?"

Draco looked as if he was about to argue, but the pleading look in the other boy's eyes instantly silenced him.

"Fine," he huffed.

"Thanks."

Endnote: I'm sorry that it's so short. I thought a small update was better than no update. I hope it wasn't too confusing. Now review or else I'll give Harry even more bad dreams.

Review Responses:

Murray _the _Leprechaun: I hope you enjoyed this update even if it was rather small. Also, I love you so very much because you put up with my random updates and always get things edited quickly. I love you.

Morena Evensong: Yeah, although I love the parody idea, I also think that it wouldn't quite fit the storyline well. sarcasm Sure, the best way to deal with grief is to avoid it entirely. /sarcasm Although, yeah, I wouldn't want to spend time grieving with friends either. I like to grieve on my own because I get ugly when I cry – all snotty and red in the face. Crying is just so gross when I do it. I don't want to inflict that on others, especially because people try to hug you when you're like that.

stary: I would love to talk to you and ramble with you and all, but I don't really have the time. You could try though; my e-mail address should be in my profile.

MishapsErrors: Mmmm....bondage. Too bad it doesn't quite fit into the story or else I'd take up the challenge. Oh hell yes bunnies are evil. I had a friend once who was tripping on acid at another friend's house. His friend just happened to have one of those creepy little bunnies with the red eyes. Guess what happened? The nasty little critter bit him and you can only imagine how that fucked with my friends mind. Even to this day bunnies give him flashbacks. Anyway, did you ever read Bunnicula when you were younger? It was about that creepy little vegetable sucking spawn of Satan with the weird fur pattern. Yeah, that's living (even though he's fictional) proof that bunnies are the epitome of all evil.


End file.
